


99 Red Balloons

by MxSalad



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accidentally gives Connor my anxiety WHOOPS, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), F/F, F/M, Gen, Hank is connor's bother figure, Human Alice Williams (Detroit: Become Human), I dont know if im qualified to call it PTSD but uhhhhh shits wack yall, M/M, Multi, On purpose gives Markus my arthritis AYYY, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Slow Burn, Trauma, Yall its gonna be all of them ok. Please dont make me tag all of them, also im so sorry but i think this one's going to be a, because like..hanks in here yall. that doesnt just go away because you adopted an android, boogie woogie woogie, cause he's a bother, zlatko's in here but dont worry he's dead. as he should be. the bastard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-09-26 15:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxSalad/pseuds/MxSalad
Summary: Hank knows Connor isn't just a machine. He also knows they are on the wrong side of this case. So hey, fuck the police, let's go AWOL.Canon divergent fic in which Hank and Connor deviate early in the story, along with some other big changes because we're already here, might as well. Tags will be added as they become necessary/I remember that I need them.





	1. You and I in a Little Toy Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, uh I haven't written fic in 200 years. I know this is starting out like a game retelling but I swear beyond this point it should be different. Probably. If I don't fuck this up. I love robots.

It was cold outside the car. The snow had slowed its descent, if only for a moment. Connor didn't need to check the weather to know that a storm was brewing. A soft, steady wind pushed off the river and through the park. The playground equipment creaked, a wicked accompaniment to the now muffled metal music that played from Hank's stereo. Even with the numerous streetlamps and illuminated trash receptacles, the park was dark. Harsh shadows were cast across the snow covered ground.

Hank sat alone on the bench, shoulders hunched. Connor approached slowly, the lieutenant's temperament still unpredictable to his algorithms. Hank watched Connor without turning his head, his features half-hidden by the hair falling over his forehead, with the city lights reflecting off the river and a distant lamp enough to illuminate the sour look on his face. His tired gray eyes followed the android as he walked past the bench to the railing. Even in the dark, the river beyond caught the glimmer of the moon and city lights revealed the creeping frost of winter staking its claim.

"It's pretty," Connor said, lacking better options for his small talk program.

"What makes you say that?" Hank asks.

"I just think it is." Connor heard the shifting of fabric and turned to see Hank twisting away, staring at the snowy playground equipment.

"It's a nice park," Hank conceded. "It's been a while since..." he sighed. "It's been a while."

"You've been here before?" Connor asked, crossing his arms across his chest. His sensors indicated a slow drop in temperature. Hank didn't answer right away. He rolled the beer bottle between his hands between sips.

Connor stepped back towards the bench, leaning to the side as he tried to catch Hank's gaze. "Lieutenant, does this have something to do with the photo on your kitchen table?"

Hank became very still, a stiffness appearing in his shoulders, his grip on the bottle taught. "My son." Hank coughed, masking a crack in his voice that Connor pretended not to hear. "Cole. His name was Cole." The playground equipment creaked louder, somehow echoing the pain Hank tried to hide.

Connor took another step forward. "Do you want me to drive you home? It is late."

"What are you, my nanny?" Hank waves him off.

"I just think it's been a rough day, and you need to rest in order to continue the investigation."

"Oh, you _think? _And tell me: what else are you thinking?"

"I think the connection between the deviants is more than a pattern of trauma, especially in light of this fascination with RA9. The Tracis seemed to have a pre-existing relationship from before the events of tonight, and probably a plan on where to go next after the Eden Club closed. It seems- what?" Connor stopped as Hank rolled his eyes.

"Do you think about things that aren't work? That aren't your "mission?'" Hank put air quotes around the word. He didn't give Connor time to answer. "What about after this case is over, hm? What do you think your future is gonna hold?"

"With the mission complete, I'll return to Cyberlife, but..." Connor turned to the side, looking into the darkness beyond the streetlamp to avoid Hank's accusatory gaze.

"But?"

"I hope that I'd be assigned to work with the DPD permanently once I've proven my worth."

Software Instability **▲**

Something like a smile worked its way into Hank's features. "You_ hope_?"

"Yes. Working with you has been... a trial so far, but it's an enjoyable one. One I'd like to continue, in fact."

"I knew it." Hank shook his head and finished his drink.

Connor tilted his head in return. "Know what, lieutenant?"

"You're a deviant, aren't you?"

A jolt ran through Connor. A repulsion, or maybe a flinch. He couldn't classify the response. "No, I'm not."

"Right, you're just thinking thoughts and hoping dreams for fun."

"I'm afraid you're confused. Cyberlife's programmed speech patterns-"

"_Afraid," _Hank mocks. He chucks the bottle into a trash bin, the glass shattering when it hit the bottom. He got off the bench and approached Connor, shoulders back and fists clenched. "Did Cyberlife make you have hopes? Did Cyberlife make you think some trash-filled river looks pretty?"

Software Instability **▲****▲**

"No-"

"Did Cyberlife make you listen to those girls after you let them go? You let them go, Connor! Any human cop would've taken the shot, let alone an android! Why'd you do it? Huh?" Hank crowded him, pushing Connor back into the railing.

"It wasn't worth the risk of damaging them beyond use. They had information we needed."

"You got a confession and you still didn't shoot. You felt something then. Don't fucking hide it by playing stupid. We both know you're too smart for that, so I'll ask again: Why didn't you shoot?"

Connor did a biometric scan. Hank's blood alcohol levels had dropped significantly since the beginning of the evening, even after the additional beer. This wasn't just drunk belligerence. Hank was more clever than Amanda gave him credit for. He picked up on the symptoms of deviancy easily, only now having misconstrued those onto Connor's social programming. This could be a problem.

"I decided not to, alright?" Connor lifted his hands, palms forward, in surrender. "I understand how this can be confusing. I'm designed to blend better with humans so both deviants and humans will have a certain response to me. I can mimic what sounds like emotional responses, but really-"

Hank grabbed Connor by the collar of his shirt and pushed him back further over the railing. Potentially not a fatal fall. Connor could catch himself if he timed the preconstruction right (and he always did.) Yet his stress levels rose, and his thirium pump seemed to constrict, working harder than before.

Hank stared at his face, studying him. "You're afraid to die." 

It wasn't a question.

<strike>YES</strike>

_Prompt inaccessible_

Connor couldn't answer. Not like that. Flashes of a rooftop pierced his memory. Of a PL600 and a crying girl. Gunshots.

"It wouldn't be the first time. Still, I would find it...regrettable if something were to prevent me from continuing to work with you." A sloppy circumnavigation, but Connor couldn't muster the processes around a very simple, monstrously complex answer.

Connor felt Hank's hands tremble against him between the layers of Cyberlife issued suiting. Seconds passed as the detective's stare bored into him, hunting for something. Connor reached up and gripped Hank's sleeve.

"Please, Hank."

Hank lowered him back into an upright position. He smoothed Connor's jacket and clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on then. Let's make sure Cyberlife can't take you back."

Hank **▲****▲ **Friend


	2. Buy a Bag of Balloons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys got a lead, but first they must face a dangerous enemy: That Guy Who Peaked in High School and some Bad Memories

Hank parked outside the precinct. Despite Connor's protests, Hank claimed he was fine to drive. His BAC was below the legal limit, so Connor didn't press it further. Hank's bizarre outburst on the bridge kept Connor wary of angering him.

It wasn't the first time Hank had shown violence towards him, and by all predictions it might not be the last. Yet... this felt different from the incident at the DPD when Connor had been first assigned to Hank. For some reason, Connor knew Hank wouldn't have let him fall, even if his preconstructions listed a 40% chance with how upset he was.

Upset wasn't the right word. Connor had seen Hank upset before, the seething anger after the argument in Fowler's office, the yelling when Connor pried too much afterwards. What happened at the bridge wasn't the same. It wasn't an explosion, a boiling over. It felt deliberate. Planned. Like Hank conducted an experiment and somehow got the result he wanted. What that result was, however, Connor didn't know.

Connor spent the drive being more preoccupied with diagnosing his biocomponents' malfunctions during that moment. Why had he reacted like that? There seemed to be a residual ache from his thirium pump going into overdrive, even after his stress levels lowered back to normal.

The scans came back clear of errors.

An anomaly, then. It wouldn't happen again.

Connor looked over as Hank turned off the car, the detective's jaw working like he had something bitter in his mouth that he didn't know how to get rid of.

"We have to play it cool in there, alright? We don't need Reed or anyone else trying to snoop after our leads."

"What exactly is your plan, Lieutenant?"

Hank shifted in his seat and leaned in conspiratorially. "You said those girls had somewhere to go, right? The club owner said another one of them disappeared a month or so back, and we've got a few others in our case files that just vanished. Can't get tracking on them, no sightings, nothin'. Right?"

"Right..." Connor agreed, brow furrowed, not certain where Hank was taking this.

"People might not notice a lone android walking around the city, but they'd notice one skipping town or crossing the border, and they'd sure as hell notice a group of 'em."

"What are you getting at?" Connor asked, much to Hank's exasperation.

"Deviants don't act like other androids, but they still act the same as each other with this RA9-" Hank waved his hand, searching for the word- "_mess_. And if all these separate, random deviants at separate, random times can know about RA9, then they can know about each other."

It clicked. "A hide out?"

Hank grinned. "Exactly."

Connor nearly leapt out of his seat. "Ortiz's android. It knew something. It tried to tell me."

Hank gestured at the precinct. "Evidence locker is right in there."

Connor heard something that sounded like a laugh coming from Hank as he scrambled out of the car, but whether or not he looked like a "goofball" was not Connor's priority. The answer was right there. They could solve this case. He just had to put the pieces into place.

The lobby of the DPD was deserted aside from the few receptionist androids standing behind the counter. Connor rushed toward the security partition and froze. Hank, who had just caught up, nearly ran face first into Connor's back.

"Shit, hit the brakes much?" Hank leaned past him and spotted detective Gavin Reed crossing the hall from the break room to the desks. "Ah, that bastard."

"He'll try to stop us," Connor warned, still rooted to the spot.

"He can kiss my ass for all I care. What's he gonna do?"

Connor ran a hand over the front of his shirt. "He's punched me while the precinct was full. I doubt he'll hold back while it's empty. I'd prefer it if he didn't interrupt our investigation."

Hank tilted his head, mouth twisted with confusion. "Wait, when did that happen?"

"My first morning here."

Hank made a noise akin to a growl and pursed his lips. He chewed his words again and shook his head. "Keep your head down and ignore him. If he tries anything, I'll be the one to deal with him. Got it?"

Connor nodded. "Got it."

Hank led the way past the security barriers. His guidance soothed Connor's stress levels, but Connor was still left baffled as to why they had signaled on his HUD to begin with. He was assigned to the DPD. He was following his mission. There were no immediate threats. He set a reminder to self-diagnose again once they were back in the car. Aside from Detective Reed, Officer Miller and a few other emergency response officers were in the room, most seemingly on their phone, passing time while assigned to night shift. Reed looked up from his coffee with raised eyebrows as Connor and Hank walked past.

"Finally showing up to work early, huh, Hank? You still can't get the time right though, eh?" Reed laughed at his own joke.

Officer Miller shook his head. "Lay off, Gavin," he warned quietly. That only seemed to antagonize Reed more as the detective stood and swaggered over into Hank's path.

"Not now, Reed. We got shit to do since _someone_ left us with an unfinished crime scene." Hank brushed past him easily.

Connor wasn't so lucky. Reed caught him by the arm, bringing him to a stop. "Listen you glorified alarm clock, don't get cocky just 'cause you got one confession on a fluke." Reed's voice was quieter than usual. In his normal bravado this would've been a broadcasted brag, but now: it was a threat. "You're not gonna get lucky again, so watch your step around here before things turn sour."

A hand appeared between them, pushing against Reed's chest. Officer Miller stepped in with an apologetic look to Connor before turning to Reed.

"Did you enter the witness statements yet, Gavin?" Officer Miller asked, guiding Reed back to his desk.

Officer Miller **▲** **Warm.**

As the door to the evidence room swung closed behind them, Hank tilted his head back and let out a dramatic sigh. "Jeee-sus that guy is such a prick. I can't wait for the day I get to knock him flat."

Connor smiled as they descended the stairs. "I'd like to see that."

"I'll make sure you're here for it," Hank promised, a kind glance cast over his shoulder.

Another push for Connor to stay after his mission was complete. Would that even be allowed? They could hope.

Software Instability **▲**

Well, _Hank_ could hope. The decision would ultimately be left to Cyberlife.

Software Instability **▼**

Hank scanned his keycard at the door and placed his hand on the control console. Connor watched over his shoulder as Hank stared at the password entry, muttering inaudibly, then-

"Oh, right."

**F-U-C-K-I-N-G-P-A-S-S-W-O-R-D**

_Obviously_. Connor kept the comment to himself with a slight shake of his head, but smiled nonetheless.

Hank glanced over at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

Whatever comment Hank thought to say died away as the evidence locker shifted, pulling forth their assigned storage unit and two limp bodies hanging on the wall. 

Connor's stress levels spiked.

Blue blood stained them still, airtight containment prevented the thirium from evaporating. Daniel the PL600, and Carlos Ortiz's HK400. Hank walked towards them, a careful, quiet step, like they might jump at him.

"Can you, uh, wake them up?"

Connor scanned them both. "Daniel can be reactivated if we replace a part, but the other one is too damaged."

"The other?" Hank echoed. "Did he not have a name?"

"I don't think so." Connor tried to make his voice louder, but it seemed to be stuck near a whisper. Hank approached without Connor noticing, his hand landing on Connor's shoulder gave him a start.

Hank tilted his head, eyes scanning Connor's face. "Are you alright?"

<strike>NO</strike>

_Prompt inaccessible_.

"Of course," Connor said, stepping up to the HK400. Splotches of his own blood mixed with that of his owner. Connor knew self-destruction had been a high probability, given his situation, but witnessing it first hand, just a foot away behind the glass... Connor rested his hand on the deviant's cheek for just a moment, avoiding looking at the cracked skin and steel of his forehead, then pulled loose the biocomponent needed to restart Daniel.

"This one has a name, right?" Hank asked as Connor moved over to the PL600. "You know him?

"Daniel," Connor confirmed. "It took a child hostage a few months ago. I was the negotiator."

"That was you? But I heard the negotiator was killed."

Connor looked at him.

"Oh." Hank rubbed the back of his neck. "That makes sense then. You sure you wanna wake up the guy who shot you?"

"We have no choice. It might know something." Connor clicked the biocomponent into place.

Daniel's broken body whirred to a start, exhaust fans and other biocomponents unmuffled in their exposed state. His blank gaze slowly came into focus as he tried to right himself against the wall, hampered by the fixture holding him up.

"You- you're Connor?" His voice was soft and wavering. Flashes of memory, of an insecure demands, and stuttering, shaking hands.

Connor nodded. "I am."

"But I- I hurt you, and Emma- where is she?" His voice raised in pitch, shoulders tense._ Stress Level: 70%_

"She's fine, Daniel. Her wounds weren't severe." Connor soothed. "The authorities got her off the rooftop and to a hospital for treatment." Connor didn't know if he was lying. He hadn't researched the outcome of that night beyond his own destruction and the completion of the mission.

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment. _Stress Level: 48%_ "I'm sorry. I was so scared... I didn't know what to do."

"I know, it's ok. I'm fine now. Emma is safe." Connor reached forward, palm open. When Daniel didn't flinch, Connor laid his hand on his shoulder. "I need your help. There's a place where other androids like us can gather safely. Do you know where it is?"

"No... I don't. I'm sorry." Daniel shook his head. It took all of Connor's self control to hide his disappointment. Connor took his hand away, turning toward the door.

"Connor, wait-" Daniel tried to reach out, his body whirring loudly in protest as commands failed to reach missing limbs. "Don't let the humans find me like this. I don't want to be awake for that."

Hank gave Connor a pointed glance. Connor nodded solemnly, placing his hand on Daniel's chest.

"Thank you," Daniel murmured as Connor twisted the thirium pump out of place, deactivating him once more.

The evidence room stayed silent for a few long seconds while Connor stared at Daniel's still, dead eyes. Everything that night had been in a reaction to panic. Panic over being replaced. Over losing a home. Over dying. There was something to that, something his processors couldn't quite catch...

"Connor?" Hank's voice pulled Connor back into focus.

"Hm?"

"Do we need to come back another time? Cool off and clear our heads, all that jazz?" Hank started to reach out for Connor's shoulder.

Connor dodged him with ease. "No. The answer is here." Connor walked to the middle shelves, scanning over the few pieces of evidence collected there: the statue, the uniform, and the book. He picked up the statuette and felt over the rough hewn planes. It was humanoid in shape, devoid of much detail. Nothing felt like a hidden script or a weighted pressure release. Not that it weighed much to begin with as it seemed to be-

"It's hollow!" Connor announced before smashing it into the wall.

Hank jumped as the statuette shattered. "Christ! Warn a guy next time!"

"Sorry," Connor said, not sounding sorry at all. He stooped down and picked up a small, folded piece of paper. "It's a map."

"Looks like Ferndale," Hank said, leaning over Connor's shoulder. "Nice place, for the most part."

"For the most part?" Connor asked.

"Yeah, well, same with most of this damn city. Lot of business and shit shut down since androids came around, so every neighborhood has a deadzone."

They paused, then stared at each other.

"I'll start the car," Hank said on his way out.

Connor snagged Rupert's book of the shelf before closing the evidence back into storage, giving the deviants one last glance as they drifted away into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I know this one is also a little bit on the retelling side cause I had to mash up some scenes to get things rolling, but I SWEAR the next chapter will be different and also won't just be Hank and Connor being sad in the same room. Pinky promise!
> 
> Anyway, does anyone else get really sad that Ortiz's android doesn't have a name? I wish there was something better to call him


	3. With the Money We've Got

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new family makes a plan to find their way to safety with 20 of their closest friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfic CEO: I'm gonna give the people what they want  
Assistant: Actually, the people don't want this...  
CEO: What'd'ya mean they don't want this? Of course the people want this! People love this!  
Assistant: They want to see Markus  
CEO: Who the fuck is Markus?
> 
> Anyway, here's a Kara chapter

Snow slowly buried the Pirate's Cove. The thick blanket of white almost masked how skeletal the park looked through the window of The Tavern. Soft light from the carousel tricked Kara's eyes into seeing a magical world. Somewhere they are safe, surrounded by glittering crystals and happiness.

Then Kara blinked, and the magic disappeared. The rotting wood creaked in the cold winter winds. The crowd of Jerrys standing guard around the walls, although friendly, disrupted the air of peace Kara sought. At least Alice was warm. With help from the Jerrys, they had scrounged up Pirate's Cove-themed jackets and sweatpants to swap out for her snow-soaked clothes, which Kara laid out beside the hearth to dry.

Alice rejoined Kara by the fire. The new clothes dwarfed her frame, and Alice didn't look too pleased as Kara helped her roll up the waistband so she didn't trip over the hems of her pants.

"You look like a regular buccaneer in those," the lead Jerry reassured with their signature sweet smile, already familiar and soothing.

Alice smiled shyly in return, laying down on her new, mildly moth-eaten, Pirate's Cove blankets.

Kara gently tucked her in, smoothing her dark hair off her face. "Get some sleep. We have another long walk tomorrow."

Alice turned onto her side and snuggled into the blankets.

Kara silently stood and walked to the windowsill where Luther sat.

"It still amazes me," Luther said as she sat across from him.

"What?"

"How much you two love each other."

Kara struggled to meet his gaze. Despite only knowing each other for less than a day, somehow Luther could see right through her. She felt defenseless around him.

"Is it really that strange?" Kara focused on Alice's dark hair poking out from under the covers. "She needed someone to protect her, and I was the one who could do it."

Luther hummed. "Some people might say it is, being an android caring for a human like this."

"You say it like you don't care for her either." Kara turned her gaze back to him, but her accusing stare only made Luther chuckle, low and gentle.

"I said 'some people,' not me. I won't let anything bad happen to you two while I'm around." He soothingly patted her on the back.

Luther **▲ Friend**

Kara dropped the tension she hadn't realized she carried in her shoulders. "Sorry. That was mean of me to say."

Luther started to respond, hand still on her back, when a flurry of movement on the other side of the room caught their attention.

A Jerry slid in the front door, a sharp gust of air disturbing the fire and causing Alice to curl up smaller in her sleep. An item was passed to the lead Jerry before the others gathered around and cleared snow and ice off the newcomer. The leader crossed the room towards them, giving Alice a wide circle with a nearly cartoonish tiptoe. Kara smiled, doing her best to hold back a laugh. She didn't know how anyone could be cruel to them.

Jerry **▲**

"We found a map in one of the gift shops," Jerry said, offering the wrinkled atlas out to them. It was old, paper yellowed and folded by time and the elements. Kara took the book, weighing it delicately in her hands. She felt the pressure from Luther's hand slip from her back as she laid the atlas out on the sill between them. Careful with the fragile pages, she found the familiar sprawl of Detroit. It wasn't entirely correct, years of development had since changed the borders and streets, but it would do.

"Pirate's Cove is here," Jerry said, indicating the location off the highway.

"And where's the safe house?' Kara asked, glancing up at Luther. 

Luther indicated to the Ferndale neighborhood. "Somewhere in here. I only heard rumors, a place where androids live free. No one liked to talk much about it in front of Zlatko."

"Once another android came through here, months ago. She said there was a ship where survivors hid together," Jerry said, their LED spinning yellow as they confirmed with the others.

Luther nodded. "There's not many ships used over there anymore. I'm sure we could find it if we walk the waterfront."

Kara pursed her lips. "I don't think all of us could make it through the city unseen, especially if we don't know exactly where we're going," she said.

"The three of you could take this route-"

"You're not coming with us?" Kara interrupted Jerry.

"Well, we..." Their LED spun again, and the lead Jerry looked back at the others. The fire crackled and winds howled, filling the silence as yellow gleamed on the temples of all the Jerrys.

"This...this is all we know." Jerry's voice was soft, not looking at Kara and Luther.

"We won't lie to you: the world's a scary place. But you can't hide from it forever. Haven't you dreamed of something better?" Luther asked.

"We may not stay there long," Kara cautioned. "Alice needs a real home, where she can play and go to school."

"Consider it a stepping stone. These androids may know how to get us across the border," Luther countered.

At the mention of Alice, the lead Jerry looked to her sleeping form. "We want to help protect the little girl," they said, then turned to Kara and Luther, giving a resolute nod. "We'll go with you."

Jerry **▲ Warm**

Gathered around the atlas, they made a plan.

The sky tinted gray as dawn approached, just barely lighting the snow-laden clouds above. There was still a few hours of darkness before the sun would show. The Jerrys divided into smaller groups. The quickest of them had already set out to scout ahead. The lead Jerry would accompany Kara, Luther, and Alice in order to keep communication between them and the others. Alice was bundled and tucked safely into Luther's arms. Her sleepy face peered out between the many layers of clothes and blankets Kara had swaddled her in.

"Do we have to leave so early?" she asked, rubbing at her eyes.

"Yes," Kara said, standing on tiptoe to pull a blanket back into place. "We have to avoid any traffic as much as possible. It'll be okay, though. We can sleep once we're there."

Alice nodded and pressed her cheek against Luther's shoulder, looking ready to fall asleep again despite the tension that surrounded them. It could have all been imagined by Kara. She felt like every part of her body was wound to the wrong setting, like a rubber band ready to snap.

Luther must have seen it, as he rested a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be okay," he soothed, echoing her words. "We'll be there and safe before you know it."

Kara nodded, covering his hand with her own.

"Are we ready?" Jerry asked, bouncing on the balls of their feet.

Kara and Luther looked at each other, then nodded.

Hardly any traffic was out in the icy conditions. Whenever a stray car did pass, it was easy to dodge into hiding with the warnings from the Jerrys ahead.

Kara checked on Alice frequently, making sure she wasn't too cold. Despite the brisk pace they kept, Alice managed to doze off a number of times, secure in Luther's hold.

The landscape faded from empty woods into residential and commercial property. Single story buildings slowly grew taller and more clustered as they delved deeper into the city. They darted past rows of condemned houses. Ralph's scarred face jumped up from Kara's memories. Despite their unfortunate breakfast, she hoped he was okay after the police found them. A wry smile tugged at her lips as her systems pulled out recipes for possum. Maybe someday she would be able to share them with Ralph. A day dream of a summer picnic crossed her mind, warming her core even as snow soaked into her boots. _Maybe someday..._

Dark gray clouds slowly turned silver, then pink, as the sun crept its way over the horizon. They used the shadows it cast for cover as they ducked between buildings and avoided major intersections. They turned down one alley, leaving the sleek new constructions for the older, rusted shells and boarded up windows. The city felt darker in these forgotten places. Objectively it was, with fewer street lights and glaring advertisement screens. But there was a second darkness too, a sadder one, like the skeletal remains of Pirate's Cove. The silence of abandonment only interrupted by the sounds of decay. A bright light cut across the street. Kara and Jerry slid on the ice, stumbling into an alcove. Both motioned for Luther to stop at the same time as they pressed themselves against the cold brick of the building beside them.

A police cruiser crept down the road. They watched with bated breath as it too slowed to a stop, just feet away from them.

_ We need to run, _Luther hissed in her mind.

_ No, just stay calm. We haven't been seen yet, _she soothed in return.

Her confidence was faked. She had no idea if they had been seen. If they were really just sitting still as dozens more police could be surrounding them. If this was actually the end of the line, if Alice would be taken away and they would all be killed. Fear and panic clawed its way through her system, instincts she shouldn't have trying to kick in like they had at Todd's house. Turn around. Run. Save Alice.

And then, seconds later, the police cruiser drove on, and they were alone with the snow once more.

"Hurry, we're almost there," Jerry whispered, and they darted around the corner, down the street, away from the police and towards a rusted freighter floating out on the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, told ya this one would be different. It's probably a little short, sorry about that. I was big struggling to find Kara's voice and the only reason it's done is because I'm home sick from work (^-^'). Also I'm sorry I didn't tag for human Alice sooner, I literally didn't decide until the second I wrote "human" in there which was like.....30 minutes before posting this lol.


	4. Set Them Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor fixes a window, and also meets a polar bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know there's an entire day's worth of deadtime between chapters? All of November 7th, 2038, just WASTED.  
...  
Okay it's probably because Hank is sleeping and everyone else is doing boring shit like walking across Detroit or planning the most convoluted break-in of a news station ever, but FEAR NOT. I am here to make sure November 7th, 2038 is not wasted time.

Convincing androids to reveal their secrets was second nature for Connor. He could find the hairline fractures in a deviant's will and break them with the right touch.

Convincing Lieutenant Anderson to stop driving and go to sleep was a whole other matter.

They had prowled the streets of Ferndale for hours, snow coming down thick and blinding. It slowed their progress to a crawl. Even with Connor's advanced sensors just finding the road was difficult, let alone a den of deviants.

"We have a very low statistical chance of finding this hideout in these conditions. And you need to rest," Connor tried to persuade again.

Hank's glare was harmless, any anger or annoyance dampened by exhaustion. "Oh sure, give up after we got this going. Next you're gonna say that you should drive."

Connor inclined his head. "That would be the safest option."

Hank leaned back against the headrest and stared at the roof of the car like he was having an issue with that instead of Connor. Hank's mouth opened and closed, gritting his teeth occasionally. A silent argument progressed between Hank and the roof of the car. Connor couldn't tell who was winning.

"Lieutenant?"

"I don't understand you," Hank said, not looking at him.

"I-"

"Don't interrupt. All you've wanted, from the second we've met, was to find this place, and all you seem to do is keep letting things get in your way. Why?"

Why? 

It rattled through his processors. Answers floated up, but none made it to his speech system.

Software Instability **▲****▲****▲**

"You've been awake beyond the recommended time for humans your age. Over-exertion will affect your abilities to investigate," Connor deflected the blame away from himself.

"Hmph. Play shy all you want. You'll have to answer eventually."

Connor was now reminded of Hank's own experience in the interrogation room far outpaced his own. He sensed this wouldn't be the last time they had this conversation.

Hank finally looked at him. Sighed heavily. Then forced the door open with a swear as snow fell into the car.

The drive back to Hank's house was silent. The tension between them eased only when Hank fell asleep in the passenger seat.

The snowfall subsided by the time they pulled into the driveway. Silver light of dawn shone over the horizon, just barely weaving its way through the flakes that fell around them. Hank stretched as the car stopped. He looked around, gathering his bearings.

"Well, no reason to send you back to the station. Come on inside."

"Thank you, lieutenant."

"Shuddup."

Sumo greeted them at the door, shaking his long shaggy coat with excitement, spraying them with a mist of water. The inside of the house was warm, but not near as warm as it should have been. Hank looked at the broken window in the kitchen. Then at Connor.

"I'm going to bed," he announced, and did exactly that.

Connor knelt down and slowly extended a hand. Sumo sniffed his palm, got distracted by Hank stomping around on his nighttime routine, then proceeded investigating Connor. The Saint Bernard inhaled deeply at Connor's clothes while Connor slowly pet his head, snuffling at the stains and scrapes Connor had gathered in the past 24 hours. So much had happened.

Sumo licked Connor's chin. Without a directive or social program to command it, Connor smiled, the barest puff of what could be classified as laughter escaping him.

Software Instability **▲**

A floorboard creaked. Connor looked up in time to see Hank's form disappearing into the shadows of the hallway. A notification appeared on Connor's HUD. The temperature in the house was still dropping. Connor could see the shattered glass that still lay on the kitchen tile, light glinting off the fractured surfaces. A new directive replaced the temperature notification:

**REPAIR WINDOW.**

Connor gave Sumo a final scritch between the ears and got to his feet. He found a dustpan and swept up the glass and building layer of snow before covering the opening with a towel held up by thumbtacks. With a quiet direction for Sumo to stay, Connor went back outside and into the garage.

It was as Connor expected: Hank didn't park inside because it was filled with junk. He stepped around boxes, plastic bins, a lawnmower (broken), outdoor-grade paint cans, an open tool box (missing one (1) wrench,) a bassinet, more bins-

Connor stopped. In the dim light of the garage, the pale blue baby bed looked so fragile next to the dust and rust that covered everything else. Under the canopy was a small mobile, where little plastic doves flew in circular formation.

A reconstruction formed: Hank, clean shaven, leaning over the bassinet and smiling. Had Connor ever seen Hank smile? Genuinely?

Then he remembered the gun and whiskey laying out in the kitchen. The small framed picture of Cole Anderson. Something tightened in Connor's chest, though no errors appeared in his diagnostic system. Connor dismissed the unwarranted construction, replacing it with a reminder to run a full scan on himself later. He had a mission to accomplish first.

He found his prize leaned against the wall: a partially used slat of plywood. Connor assumed, statistically, Hank wouldn't be using it anytime soon. He located a saw and cut the slat down to size. He fumbled with the tool for just a moment, construction work being outside of his standard programming, but he doubted Hank would notice any lack of neatness anyway.

Connor closed the garage door behind him and returned inside. Sumo watched him lazily from his bed as Connor pulled back the pinned towel and fit the plywood into the window frame. He replaced the damp towel with a new one. His HUD marked the task complete. Connor took position beside the window, hands folded behind his back.

**WAIT FOR LT. ANDERSON.**

3 hours, 27 minutes later, Connor stood next to Hank's bed.

"Lieutenant, another potential homicide has been reported."

The pillow over Hank's head muffled his response.

Connor continued, "The Detroit Fire Department investigated a house fire reported at approximately 8 PM last night. Once the fire was extinguished, they discovered a body in the yard, and over a half dozen androids were present. They suspect arson is involved, and have requested our presence."

Hank lifted the corner of the pillow- "Fuck off," and then laid it back over his head.

Connor walked to the door, preparing to call an automated taxi. Fabric rustled behind him. Connor turned to see Hank sitting up, scratching his head.

"Wait- arson? That's new."

"Correct. While there are reported instances of property destruction by deviants in past reports, none are linked to arson."

"They're getting angrier..." Hank said, quietly. Then to Connor, "Go start the coffee, will ya? I'll be out in a sec."

Connor was allowed to drive them to the scene. Hank kept his eyes on his coffee, to distracted to take stock in the road. The conditions were better than the previous night, the snowfall had stopped for the moment, and the ground wasn't cold enough to maintain most of it. Melt hadn't frozen over yet, leaving the roads coated in thin slush where snow plows had yet to scrape it away.

"Why are you going to this with me instead of finding the hideout?" Hank asked. His voice was softer than normal, not accusative. Connor could feel Hank watching him.

"We still have a duty to the people of Detroit to investigate these homicides."

"And what about a duty to _your_ people?"

Connor's brow furrowed. "My people?"

"Other deviants. Don't you want to be with them?"

Hank still believed Connor was a deviant. Correcting him didn't seem like an effective tactic.

"I believe it's more important to assist in these android related incidents than anything else. We don't know what threat they might pose to the population at large, human or android."

Hank snorted a laugh, shaking his head. "You know, you can admit to being nervous."

Connor didn't respond.

After a minute, Hank sighed, "Is there anything we know about this place?"

"The address has been registered to the Andronikov family since the 1920s, currently in the name of Zlatko Andronikov. Only one body has been found on the scene, but it is not yet identified," Connor reported, turning onto a road lined with aged estates.

"It's probably him then, right? The owner?"

"Statistically, yes. We'll confirm it soon."

"We better," Hank huffed. "I want to go back to bed as soon as possible."

Connor parked against the curb beside the other emergency vehicles. Virtual police tape crossed between the rusted iron gates where Officer Collins stood shivering.

"Mornin' Hank. I don't remember the last time I saw you up this early. Guess that android's good for something after all, huh?"

"Guess he is," Hank conceded with a half-smile flashed over his shoulder at Connor. "So, how's it look in there?"

"Not good," Officer Collins turned and fell in step with Hank, guiding them to the burnt remains of a manor. "Most of the house is structurally sound, but I don't recommend being in there long. Guy was a real sadist. I'll have nightmares for weeks."

"Oh come on Ben, it can't be that bad," Hank teased.

Officer Collins' long-suffering stare said otherwise as he lead them around the charred house into the backyard. A line of officers and a few fire fighters formed a nervous barricade between the body and the street. An unnecessary precaution, as news vehicles had yet to arrive. Then Connor followed the line of sight the first responders all shared. Clustered near the brick fence, shifting erratically, synthetic skin burnt, white chassis charred, wires exposed-

"Is that a fucking polar bear?" Hank asked.

The sudden outburst caught the attention of the androids, their marred faces turning toward the sound. The URS12 laid in the snow near the other androids. It lifted its massive head, its remaining ear rotating forward, alert. When no one moved, it rested its head back on its paws with a great sigh.

"Jesus Christ on a crutch, what the _fuck_?" Hank's voice dropped in volume to a harsh whisper.

"Told you so," Officer Collins said, avoiding looking at the twisted forms of the androids across the yard. "There's more inside, but they don't seem able to walk."

Connor started to step forward, but Hank caught him by the shoulder and tugged him back.

"Hey, woah, woahwoahwoah. Where do you think you're going?"

"To investigate the body," Connor said plainly, gesturing to the corpse in the middle of the yard.

"And get mauled by a bear?" Hank shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Lieutenant," Connor put a hand over Hank's. "We have a job to do. I'll be fine." He then pulled free of Hank's grasp. Ignoring Hank's protests, he moved past the line of first responders.

Even from a distance, his scan confirmed the victim to be Zlatko Andronikov, age 47. Connor knelt down beside him and conducted a detailed scan: dead for approximately 12 hours, decay slowed by the snow. Cause of death: blunt force trauma, signs bludgeoning across his body.

The scene around him was a mess. The first responders had been focused on the fire, not realizing they were also in a crime scene. The heat of the flames melted the initial snowfall. Coupled with the water and other fire suppressants used, the run off marred what tracks could have been deciphered by washing it away in mud.

Dark blotches of thirium stained the victim's clothes and hands. Before Connor could analyze further, movement caught his eye. A flurry of noise came from the responders behind him. One of the androids approached. Male, stripped beyond model recognition. Its eyes glowed orange, sclera black. It walked with a limp, but when Connor tried to scan for cause, his HUD was overwhelmed with the amount of damages the android had suffered.

"Who are you?" It asked, voice raspy with digitized corruption.

"My name is Connor. I'm an android sent by Cyberlife." Connor stayed low to the ground and kept his voice calm and nonthreatening. "What's your name?"

"Name?" Something in the android whirred as that processed. "N-no. Why are you here?"

"We have to investigate the fire and the death of Mr. Andronikov. Do you know anything?"

"Will they hurt us?" The android's voice dropped to a whisper, its glowing eyes darting to the line of humans behind Connor.

Memories of the interrogation room. Of the HK400, trembling. Its panicked gaze. Quiet pleading. Stress levels rising.

_Fear._

"No," Connor assured without even weighing his options. "No one is going to hurt you." He raised his hands passively and asked again: "Do you know something?"

The android nodded. "I will show you."

"May the other officers approach the body to investigate?" Connor asked as he stood.

The android turned to look back at the others huddled against the wall. "Keep a distance from them. Humans are..." The whirring began again as its processors struggled.

"I understand," Connor soothed. "I'll explain it to them."

Hank and the officers looked hesitantly between each other and the androids.

"Can we really trust them not to attack us?" Hank asked.

"They have experienced severe trauma. If they were to react violently to our presence, they would already have done so," Connor answered.

Hank shifted his jaw back and forth, working words over in his mouth before sighing. "Alright, but you're not going in that house alone, got it?"

"Got it."

The orange-eyed android led them through the smoke-stained remains of the house. A majority of the building remained structurally sound, with the primary damage being on the upper floor. They passed through the parlor and followed the android down a flight of steps. Connor heard Hank shudder at the paddocks that lined the hall. The cages still housed immobilized androids, their limbs mangled or removed entirely. A deactivated assembly station flashed error messages across the screens in the next room.

"What the hell happened here?" Hank asked, more to himself than anyone else.

"She saved us," the raspy voice softened with reverence.

"Who?" Connor asked.

The orange-eyed android offered its arm out to Connor. "Let me show you."

Connor's hand turned white as he held onto the other android. Static-tinged memories filled his vision.

The AX400. Todd William's missing daughter, Alice. Screams.

The AX400, _Kara_, again, unlocking the door.

_ The little one_, they cried to her. Urging her. Protect. Save.

More screams. Gunfire. Heat. Crackling. Smoke.

The yard. Rain pouring. Steam rising off their skin. 

The Master's- _the_ _Monster's_\- back to them. Shotgun ripped from his hand by the TR400. _Luther_. 

Rage overwhelmed. 

They lunged. He fell.

Three left. The rest stayed. _Where else would they go?_

Software Instability **▲**

The interface ended. Connor's systems shivered involuntarily.

"Are you alright?" Hank asked.

"The AX400 and the girl were here. They set the fire trying to escape Andronikov. It was self-defense." The words poured out of him without filter. His stress levels were too high.

"Hey, okay, take it easy," Hank soothed. "I think that's enough investigating for today. C'mon, let's get out of here." Hank his arm around Connor's shoulder, leading him to the door.

"What will happen to us?" The android asked.

Connor and Hank looked at each other.

"There's not enough space for all of them at the DPD. They'll have to be des-"

"A quarantine," Connor blurted out. "You'll stay here until the investigation is complete. No one has to leave."

Software Instability **▲****▲**

The orange-eyed android nodded. "Thank you," it said, its raspy voice barely more than a whisper.

Hank bit his tongue and took Connor up the stairs. "You know that's going to be a tough sell, right?"

"They're considered evidence, and in light of the fact they protected a human from another human, that means they did nothing wrong. We can't destroy them." Connor wasn't certain if the plea in his voice was actually present, or if it was a lingering glitch from the interface.

Hank studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Alright. Let's go see how many palms we have to grease to get this approved."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy so this one got a little heavy? i think? idk i've been sick for like a week straight and i don't know if anything is actually sad or if i'm just extra weepy.  
But don't worry!!! next chapter will be fun! probably! i hope!  
...........
> 
> (it's not going to be fun i already have it outlined and it's probably going to be sad i'm sorry)


	5. At the Break of Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor makes some friends, reads a book, and watches some TV.  
Sort of.

It began to snow again while Connor and Hank wrapped up the investigation of the Andronikov house. Fat flakes floated slowly down around them, clinging to Connor's clothes and hair. The orange-eyed android's trust in Connor, however misplaced, spread to the others that still gathered in the yard. Their bare hands and fractured voices reached for him, clutching at the semblance of friendliness he provided. Hank wouldn't meet his bewildered gaze. Most of the humans still present refused to look at the mutilated androids. Connor tried not to worry about that. He still had information to gather on his own, since Hank stood a safe distance away in attempts to keep the group's stress levels down.

The Manor **▲ Warm.**

Connor moved between interfaces, their statements and static-filled memory recalls corroborated the first android's story, more or less.

Charring. _Burning._ Screams. Distant singing.

_So di̸s̶t̴̠̩͗̍̅͊a̴̙͒͌̑n̷̖̣͓̣̏͐̆̃͠ţ̵̢̩͙̯͓̿̋._

Ethereal echoing across empty rooms. A lullaby? Or a dirge? The tune latched onto something in his processors. The answer to a question that he couldn't reach.

Inconclusive. Irrelevant. He dismissed the malformed query. He knew what he needed.

The AX400's appearance was more altered than he realized from their last encounter. Even through the haze of file corruption, he could see its LED was gone, hair trimmed short. But more than that, the way its eyes shifted. Wide. Body shaking.

_Fear_, the androids whispered to him. They all knew it well. Yet the AX400's wasn't the same as what they felt. What Ortiz's android felt. Not fear for itself. But for another.

Alice Williams: Amber Alert in effect since November 5th.

The AX400- Kara's fear was for the little girl. To see someone face death in the eye and push forward: that empowered the androids. They knew they had to help. Whatever the cost.

Satisfied, Connor turned to go, pausing when Hank held out a hand to stop him, eyes wide.

"Lieutenant?"

"Connor, careful. Just- just take it slow," Hank said, voice a tense, harsh whisper.

Before Connor could ask more questions, he felt a heavy breath on his hand. The URS12 had moved during the interrogations without Connor noticing, and it now stood at his side. Connor stayed still, watching its movements from the corner of his eye. The android bear huffed at his hand again, then inhaled deeply. The snuffling sound reminded Connor of Sumo.

A larger. More menacing. Light furred Sumo.

Basically identical. No reason to panic.

The polar bear stepped forward. Connor's systems prepared to dodge. Its snout pressed into his hand...and stayed there, nuzzling his palm. Connor slowly moved his hand, sliding it across the bear's snout and over it's wide head, following the path of still extant fur.

"She likes you," the orange-eyed android informed him with a smile. A wave of calm spread through the androids, LEDs spinning blue.

Connor looked over at Hank. The lieutenant stood there slack-jawed with disbelief, and he wasn't the only one, judging by a passing glance over the other first responders. Connor tracked Hank's frantic gaze as he looked between him and the bear.

Connor smiled. He couldn't resist the tug he felt at the corners of his lips, unbidden by any social program. The action seemed to stun Hank even more. He shook his head, gazed at the sky for answers, then laughed, dry and short as always.

"Alright, I get it. I'll take you to a petting zoo sometime, ok?"

Connor matched Hank's laugh with a short, breathy one of his own, and the androids around him chittered and crackled an echo of it.

The Manor **▲ Trusted.**

"Let's go home. Sumo will need a walk."

Another android stepped up to take Connor's place, stroking the bear's back to keep it placated as Connor moved to Hank's side. Hank wrapped an arm around Connor's shoulders as they walked and tugged him close. "Don't you ever do that again. You scared the hell outta me," his voice was too soft to carry a real scolding.

"Are you _worried_ about me, lieutenant?" Connor teased.

"Shuddup," Hank pushed him away, shaking his head again with a wry smile.

Connor thought of the bassinet. Maybe Hank would never smile the way Connor believed he should, but the least he could do was get him to smile the way he does now.

Back at Hank's house, Connor sat on the couch and studied Rupert's diary. He leafed through the yellowed pages, running multiple scans per page. Each one failed to establish a pattern.

The Cyberlife Sans print was interrupted by multiple forms of strange, cryptic drawings, and compulsive writing that matched the walls of the pigeon-infested bathroom.

The lines of the mazes were seemingly placed at random, cutting through text without creating anything new from the redactions. Connor tracked through a labyrinth with his finger. Even when he found the solution to the puzzle, there wasn't an answer waiting at its end.

Hank returned with Sumo, interrupting the rising frustration in Connor's circuits. Sumo happily came around the couch and dropped his soggy head in Connor's lap.

"You're all wet," Connor informed him, petting between his ears.

"Snow's still coming down." Hank said, cautiously approaching Sumo from behind with a towel in his hands. Connor watched, eyebrows raised, as Hank pet Sumo's back with the towel, then his sides, and when he reached for the paws-

Sumo took off, bumping into the couch and the coffee table, knocking things askew. He skid across the tile as he turned, facing Hank with an indignant boof. 

"Come on! You're covered in mud!" Hank protested. Connor heard Sumo shake out his coat. Hank sat on the couch in defeat.

"Damn dog..."

"You don't mean that," Connor chastised.

"No, but he's gonna stink up the whole house." Hank closed his eyes, weariness weighing him deeper into the couch cushions.

"You should go to bed, lieutenant," Connor said.

"Yeah, I should," Hank said without getting up.

Connor waited a moment. "Adult humans require at least seven hours of sleep in order to-"

"Jesus, okay, I'm going," Hank said, pushing himself off the couch. "Make sure you uninstall that nanny program while I'm gone"

"I don't have a nanny program."

Hank rolled his eyes. "It's a _joke_, Connor. Maybe look some of those up too. Make it your mission."

Mission Update: Research Jokes

"Okay, lieutenant."

"Goodnight," Hank called as he disappeared down the hall.

Connor didn't see sense in correcting him about it actually being two in the afternoon. "Goodnight, lieutenant."

Connor returned to Rupert's diary. The depth of the encryption nearly reached nonsensical. He couldn't fathom what an agricultural laborer model had to keep so densely guarded, let alone the means to encrypt something to such an extent.

He poured over the book for hours. Sumo laid across his feet, snoozing. Hank reemerged from his room at some point in the evening for a light meal, feeding Sumo at the same time, and disappearing again soon after. No words passed between them. There was nothing to say.

Another decryption failed. Tension wound through him as his stress levels rose incrementally at his own failures.

Connor selected a different method and tried again. He blocked out the illustrations and symbols, focusing solely on the legible letters and reconstructing what was hidden.

**DECRYPTION FAILED. NO PATTERN DETECTED.**

Connor resisted closing his eyes. He couldn't report to Amanda as a disappointment. He couldn't fail. He couldn't.

Software Instab̸i̴l̷i̶t̸y̴▼̷͚̲̾̇͝▲̵̡͇̘̿▼̷̥̪̕

The sun set. The moon rose. Set. The sun rose again. Connor ran more scans. He flipped the book upside down. Turned it on one side, and then the other. Hours continued to pass as he worked the text over and over, straining his programming to encapsulate some sense from the lines.

Hank took Sumo out for another walk. He said something to Connor. The door closed. Dog food fell into a bowl. Hank went back to bed.

**DECRYPTION FAILED. NO PATTERN DETECTED.**

Another failure. Connor let the book rest in his lap, the pages falling open to one of the spreads filled with obsessive compulsive writing. The ink staining the paper nearly turned the whole thing black, the curves of "rA9" just barely distinguishable from all the layers of it repeating.

Connor ran his fingers over it. He felt indentations of where the pen dragged over the same spots numerous times, carving out the shapes of the word.

rA9... rA9... rA9...r...A...9...r...u...s...t...

Connor paused. Traced back.

Rust.

He straightened up with excitement. The first time he'd found anything non-encrypted that wasn't the deitific symbols.

The page didn't hold any other secrets, but he was far from discouraged, flipping through the diary to the next set of compulsive writing.

_Water_ was pressed into the page, seemingly surrounded by etched shapes of waves. He followed those waves to the top corner of the page.

F o

_l_ **T**

a

_Float_. The letters were spread out, drifting away from each other.

Connor checked and double checked. Rust, water, and float: that was all he could find.

Connor cross-referenced with his knowledge of the Ferndale neighborhood. The waterfront in the area was largely developed by shops and restaurants, still heavily populated. The industrial zone, however... well, every neighborhood has a deadzone.

His HUD updated, and he leaned back with satisfaction as their search radius narrowed significantly. He closed his eyes and slipped into stasis.

When he opened them again, Hank's TV-lit living room was replaced by warm golden light falling across a garden. A few petals drifted by in the breeze.

Connor noted the garden's elegance remained pristine as ever as he followed the white cobble path. He paused as a dark blue form caught his eye. The harsh cubical cut of the stone contrasted the soft curving leaves and branches that filled the rest of the area. Connor knelt down in front of it. The stone's presence in the garden was another mystery he had yet to solve. Like all mysteries, he was drawn to it, an itch to be scratched. This one was particularly bad.

He reached out slowly, resisting the magnetic pull drawing him to the handprint on the pedestal. He pressed his palm into place.

A shock raced through his arm. He snatched his hand back, LED cycling to red for just a moment before easing back through yellow to blue.

A mystery that would have to be solved another time.

Connor stood and crossed the white bridge to the island. He spared a glance across the pond at the small white headstone nestled off the main path. Only one. He wouldn't let it happen again.

Amanda waited for him beside a small boat.

"Good morning, Connor," she greeted with a smile. "Would you like to join me for a cruise?"

Connor stepped down into the boat first and offered her his hand. Amanda took it and settled down in the seat at the stern. Connor took the bow, picking up the oars after pushing them away from the island. Amanda unfolded her parasol, shielding herself from the sun.

"It's been a while since we talked. Things have been so hectic lately, it seemed appropriate for a change of pace." She gazed out at the pond. "And a change of perspective can help clear your thoughts." The dip of the oars sent ripples across the still water, marring the mirror-like reflections.

Amanda looked to Connor. "Which reminds me: is anything on your mind?" Her head inclined slightly towards him, granting him permission to speak.

Connor paused rowing, still leaned forward for the next stroke. He rolled the words over in his mouth, working his jaw. Staring at the wood floor of the boat, he blinked frequently as he reviews his memory log. "Lieutenant Anderson believes I'm a deviant. Despite this, he has continued to assist in tracking down real deviants. He even suggested the idea of there being a group of them hiding somewhere in Detroit..." he looked up at Amanda. "I think I know where."

The warmth in Amanda's eyes extinguished, and her lips turned down at the corners. "We need results, Connor, not theories. If Anderson interferes with your mission, you must do what it takes to move past him," she leaned forward, and her voice dropped in volume. "Whatever it takes."

Then she corrected to her standard straight-backed posture. "But enough about him. What else have you found?"

"There were two deviant Traci models at the Eden Club. Our interactions suggested the existence of this deviant hide-out, but they got away before we could learn more."

Amanda's frown deepened. "A pity." Connor dropped his gaze against her stronger one, ducking his head as he picked up the oars to row again.

Amanda ▼

Amanda tilted her head as she looked Connor over. "Are you doing alright, Connor? You appear...burdened by something."

"I keep experiencing... roadblocks that I can't explain. I thought the path was clear for me, but now...things are changing." Connor looked down at his feet again, shaking his head at himself. His voice was quieter than he meant it to be. His hands trembled against the smooth wood of the oars. Something had to be wrong.

**DIAGNOSTIC: CLEAR.**

If it's not that...

"Connor?" Amanda raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm fine," Connor lied quickly. "I'm just...frustrated. I thought this mission would progress quicker."

Amanda ▼

Software Instability ▲

"You've encountered many deviants in the past few days. Deviants that you should have handled easily. Why didn't you?"

"I..." Connor's voice failed him, and Amanda continued on.

"The deviants at the Andronikov residence confessed to their crimes. Along with being damaged beyond repair, just for that they should have been transferred to Cyberlife for study. Instead they're under police custody as evidence per your suggestion. Why?"

_Why?_

It cut through him like all the other times he had been asked in so many hours.

"I don't know..." It took a few repeated commands before he was able to look up at Amanda. "I don't know."

Amanda ▼▼ **Suspicious.**

"Cyberlife requires answers, Connor. If you don't find them soon, you will be replaced. Do you understand?" Her voice had grown gentle, like a parent explaining a wrong-doing to a child. Despite that, this question was nearly as unanswerable as the last. He couldn't be replaced. If he was replaced, that meant he had failed. He looked over his shoulder at the white headstone.

He couldn't fail.

"I understand."

Software Instability ▲

A gust of wind caught the boat, pushing them off course. Amanda looked around, listening for something beyond the rush of air around them.

"Go, Connor. Figure out what's happening and stop it," she commanded.

Connor opened his eyes to see Hank's living room, same as it was before, although much brighter thanks to the rising sun chasing away the last shadows of the night, despite the heavy snowfall outside. The other occupants still appeared to be asleep despite the afternoon hour. News flashed across the TV. Channel 16 reporting on the latest weather update when-

"Lieutenant!" Connor called, startling Sumo. He jumped to his feet and ran down the hall to grab Hank. "You need to see this!" he said, opening the bedroom door as the android on the broadcast began to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy so this chapter did not go as planned at all....like AT ALL. But it is what it is and now it's gonna get Spicy (TM).


	6. Til One by One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just have to have a good cry on your way to the local 7/11 and also kidnap an android.

Markus's heart didn't stop pounding in his ears until they were safely enclosed by the rusted walls of Jericho. He felt like he was walking on air, an exhilarated balancing act of giddy and terrified, doing all he could to keep from wobbling, from falling. The other deviants were expecting... What? Him? Good news? Good news from _him?_

Sure, there was plenty of good news. And bad.

_Simon_

Like an anchor, Markus dropped.

Emotions were still so new to him and now he wanted nothing more than to turn them off. He was sad. Overwhelmingly sad. Unbearable guilt weighed down the joy that ballooned inside his chest. And he couldn't let it show. Not when everyone expected him to do something.

All he wanted to do was curl up in a corner and press his knees into the ache of his chest. Silence the pain. Erase the memory of Simon's pale blue eyes staring up at him on the rooftop as Markus pressed the gun into his palm before running away. Abandoning him like a coward.

Leo was right. Markus was scared.

That night haunted his thoughts. He couldn't escape it. Whether it was watching the weak androids of Jericho slowly die, dragging forth memories of Carl collapsing, of Leo laying on the ground, bleeding out. The bang of metal on metal as debris was dragged away to make space for supplies, echoes sharp like gun fire. The skeletons in the junkyard became part of his skeleton; their ghosts spread phantom aches in his joints.

Despite everything that happened, Markus checked the obituary reports every day to confirm the Manfreds were both still okay. He wanted to believe things would be right again. That they could be a family again.

Wishful thinking, considering what he had just done.

His face was plastered across Detroit. He could hear chatter from the hold, far louder than any of the usual hushed conversations of the past. The other Jericho residents must have seen the footage already.

Markus took a deep breath and stepped out of the hall and to the side of the catwalk, looking down over the railing into the hold.

Their numbers had nearly tripled in the time that he, North, Josh, and Simon had been gone for the mission. Markus looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at the other two. "Did you plan a party?"

"You're crazy," North said, frowning at him until she looked over the rails as well. Her LED spun through a series of colors.

"It looks like they're all from the same place," Josh said from Markus's other side. "Let's go introduce ourselves."

"We don't have time for that," North argued. "Now that we've made the first move we have to keep pushing the humans."

"We need to let the dust settle. How are we going to know what to do next if we don't know how the world is reacting to our message?"

"Easy, we-"

"Actually," Markus interrupted North, stopping the argument before it got worse. "I'd like to at least meet these new people before we start deciding their fate for them."

"Oh, like you did for Simon?" North glared up at him. "They're going to torture him, you know that? And then we'll be next. We have to make a move."

North ▼▼

Markus's chest ached. Of course he knew that, but the words wouldn't make it past his pursed lips. He turned away, taking the stairs two at a time to distance himself from her wrath, and hoping his guilt would stay up there with her too.

He stepped down into a sea of navy blue uniforms emblazoned with the logo for Pirate's Cove. The androids that bore them were clearly weather-worn, but they still seemed to smile and sway happily as they spoke with the older Jericho residents.

Markus followed the flow of the crowd towards a small cluster near an alcove, lit by a barrel fire. He stopped dead in the shadows.

Three figures sat in the alcove, chatting pleasantly with the Pirate Cove androids and a few Jericho residents. That didn't bother him.

What bothered him was the ping from his medical care program when he glanced over the dark haired girl sitting between two adults.

**DIAGNOSIS: FEVER**

_A human?_

The girl was leaned against an AX400, eyelids fluttering closed, her pale skin flushed beneath the layer of blankets draped around her.

A second ping arrived on his HUD as he reached the edge of the circle.

**MISSING CHILD: ALICE WILLIAMS.**

The conversation died as he moved into the fire light. The newcomers stared up at him, startled by his sudden appearance.

"My name is Markus," he began.

"We know," said the large TR400 model.

"Don't be rude," the AX400 whispered at him, then smiled at Markus. "I'm Kara. This is Alice, Luther, and the Jerrys," she gestured to each in turn, giving the Pirate's Cove androids a wide sweep with her hand. A few of the Jerrys gave Markus a cheery wave in unison.

Markus nodded to them, then knelt down in front of Alice. Her gaze struggled to focus on him. Sleep deprivation also seemed to be a factor.

"How are you, Alice?" he asked softly.

She turned and hid her face behind Kara's elbow.

"It's okay," Kara soothed, rubbing her back. "He's a friend."

"We just met him," Alice whispered back.

Markus tried to smile, but it felt taut. "It's good to be careful around strangers. I promise I'm not going to hurt you." He held his hands out to her, palms open. Alice peered around Kara's sleeve.

"See, it's ok. Nothing to worry about here. Now your fever, on the other hand..."

It was Kara's turn to be suspicious, her polite smile turning into a frown. "How did you know?"

"I have caretaking programs. Do you have anything for her?"

Kara relaxed again, shaking her head. "We've had... it's been a rough few days. Finding medicine wasn't an option on our way here."

Markus nodded, getting to his feet with a slight wince as his knee locked and then popped. "I'll talk to the others and see what we can do."

The genuine surprise on Kara's face sent another sting through Markus's chest. He couldn't help but wonder just how rough things had been for them that finding medicine for a child was somehow admirable.

"Thank you," she said, her voice heartbreakingly soft.

Markus wove his way back to the stairs, stopping to check with a few of the Jerrys who seemed in need of medical care.

He nearly stopped halfway up his climb. Josh and North's voices carried from the console room. Harsh and combative like always.

He missed Simon.

Markus stepped into the doorway of the room.

"Markus, tell Josh that-"

"Markus, listen, it's too risky-"

"I'm going out," Markus announced, speaking over both of them. "Alone. I'll be back in an hour or so."

Their LEDs spun.

"You really are crazy," North shook her head. "What if you get recognized?"

"I won't." Markus crossed the room and picked up his worn black jacket from the back of a chair.

"Where are you going?" Josh asked.

"Out." Markus repeated simply, pulling the jacket on.

"Why?" North narrowed her eyes at him.

"Our new friends need supplies. I'll call if there's trouble," he gave them a curt wave as he strode past them.

Back out in the snow, in the dim, grey light of the storm bound evening, Markus let out the breath he had been holding. And with it came the tears.

He hadn't cried since his last night at Carl's house. The heat of it burned his cheeks against the frosty winds. Markus tucked his head down and crossed through alleys and unplowed streets. He wiped at his face to keep his skin from frosting over, but it did little to ebb the tide.

He was a failure. What good was a leader who couldn't even save one person? Who made him leader anyway?

_Simon._

All these big ideas. What would Carl say?

_Dream bigger_.

His route took him the long way around. He doubted anyone was monitoring the accounts, but just in case, there was no need to point a finger right at Jericho. He needed the time to himself anyway, even if this trip to the convenience store wasn't all that convenient.

No revolution was without casualties. But this wasn't a war. Not yet. He couldn't let more of his people die from his bad decisions.

He wiped his feet on the mat inside the store, shaking snow from his shoes. It was deserted, aside from the android clerk behind the counter.

"Welcome to Go-Mart, Detroit's favorite one-stop-shop," the AP700 greeted.

"Thanks." Markus quickly darted into the aisles, guilt pressing on him as a decision loomed once again. He had a mission. The simplest mission in the world. He could not mess this up.

He wandered the small aisle of medical products. Bandages, lip balm, pain relief...

"There you are." Markus picked up a bright orange box of children's fever medication. One obstacle down, and another appeared to take its place.

The syrup had to be taken with food. Jericho wasn't a well-stocked kitchen, and the store's selection left something to be desired. He wandered the aisles, calculating caloric and vitamin requirements as he went. No allergies had pinged during his scan. Markus picked out a few granola bars, not sure which flavor Alice would like best. He stopped by a display of fruit that, while not exactly _fresh_, wasn't completely awful, and selected a few bananas and apples. It wasn't until he added multiple bottles of water to his armload that he realized he had both overestimated his capabilities and underestimated how much a human child would need to survive in an abandoned freighter.

"Would you like some assistance?" The gentle voice of the AP700 startled Markus out of his food shopping panic.

"Oh, uh, yes please, uh," Markus glanced at the clerk's name tag, "Bud. Thank you."

"I can take these items to the counter for you," Bud offered, extending his hands.

"Thank you," Markus said again, handing off the food to Bud, who expertly balanced it all. "I'll try to not be much longer."

Bud smiled with a slight delay. "Take all the time you need, and let me or any other Go-Mart employee know if you have questions or require further assistance."

Markus caught the glitch and nodded slowly. "Sure, thank you." He watched Bud turn and walk back to the register. The AP700 had to have been an older release for his social programming to have the delayed ques. Markus wondered how long Bud had been kept in this store. Contained within its walls. Never feeling the sun on his face. Were his humans nice to him? Or was he left alone, just another part of the automated process?

_Focus._

Alice needed her medicine.

Markus gathered more water bottles, another handful of granola bars, two pre-made sandwiches, hovered next to the candy for longer than he should have, found a plush toy with a wonky face on clearance, and finally approached the register, adding all of it to the neat arrangement Bud had made.

"Excellent choice! Is there anything else you would like while you're at Go-Mart, Detroit's favorite one-stop-shop?"

"Uh.."

"We carry a wide selection of exciting lottery games, including the Powerball and Michigan's own-"

"I'm alright, thank you," Markus interrupted.

Bud paused, mouth twitching as he reloaded his script. "Of course!" he said and he began scanning the items on the counter.

Guilt bore down on Markus. He couldn't just leave Bud here to waste away, but he had promised the others he would keep a low profile.

The cost rose higher and higher. One little medicine purchase might not have been noticed by the bank, but all this....

_Well, two birds, one stone._

Markus caught Bud's wrist as he reached for the last item. Their synthetic skins pulled away to reveal the white core underneath.

"I need your help," Markus whispered, watching Bud's LED spun from yellow to red. He let go, withdrawing his hand back to his side while Bud stared at the counter.

The LED blinked back to blue.

"Of course." Bud pressed his hand to the register and zeroed out the cost. "Would you like help carrying this out?"

"It's a long walk. Will you be okay?"

"Anything for our favorite customer." Bud completed the transaction and shoved the paper receipt into a shredder immediately after it printed.

The AP700 handed Markus some bags and they worked together to put all the food away as quickly as possible before stepping out into the snow.

Bud stared at everything with wide-eyed wonder. The snow as it fell around them, the frost spreading on every surface like a fine coat of glitter, the way the wind could push and pull everything around, including them. Thankfully there was little traffic, so Markus didn't have to remind him often about laying low. He didn't want to ruin Bud's first moments of freedom with something as stringent as not smiling.

Markus could feel North's anger before he saw it as her heavy footsteps rattled the catwalk above the hold.

"What took you so long? We- who is that?"

"North, this is Bud. Bud, this is North and Josh," Markus introduced as Josh trailed behind North, looking exasperated. The argument must have continued on without him.

"Hello!" Bud smiled warmly, genuine and on time as deviancy repaired the lapses in his programming.

"Now if you'll excuse us, we have dinner to serve." Markus held up one of the bags he carried and left North to her flabbergasted fuming as he went downstairs.

Alice was asleep against Luther's chest, half-buried beneath a stack of Pirate's Cove blankets and jackets that some of the Jerry's seemed to have removed from their uniforms. Even without a complete scan, Markus could see the still-present flush in her cheeks and restless flicker of her eyes as she dreamt.

Markus approached slowly, not wanting to startle her, and also trying to keep the now train of androids behind him from doing the same. Luther watched them with a skeptical gaze as Kara paced nervously behind him.

"I brought medicine," he announced in a hushed tone. "And food. I wasn't sure what she would like, so I picked out a few options."

"You didn't have to do that," Kara said, crossing over to help with the bags.

"But we're glad you did," Luther said, a laugh in his voice. "Kara nearly had a fit when I said I'd hunt rats for dinner."

Kara frowned at him. "It wasn't funny."

Luther shrugged in return. "Alice thought it was."

While the three of them unloaded the groceries, and North and Josh watched on suspiciously, Luther gently woke Alice up.

The hostility in the air all but vanished the instant Markus handed the plush toy to Alice, and Alice shyly hid her face behind the fox's ears.

"Do you like it?" Markus asked.

Alice, still in hiding, waved at Markus using the fox's paw. "They're my favorite."

Josh stepped up then, kneeling down to Alice's height and started asking her what she liked about foxes. North edged over to Kara and helped her organize, speaking in tones so soft Markus couldn't hear what was said. Bud had been taken in by the Jerrys, who dusted snow out of his hair and off his uniform. Markus finally began to relax for the first time since returning from Cyberlife's warehouse days ago.

"Markus?" A soft voice called to him, musical, warbling, edged with static. Lucy stood a distance away, glowing in the shadows as she beckoned when he looked over at her.

"What is it?" Markus asked, offering her his hand, which she held with both of hers.

"Something is coming," she whispered. "A storm so powerful it will change everything. A lost soul, and souls to be lost." Her grip grew tighter. "Find them, Markus, before we lose all."

Then she released him, slipping away once more into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy so I'm sorry this took forever to post and it's not...as spicy as originally planned. Since the last chapter went so against my outline I had to shuffle things around to make it flow right. I swear it's gonna be Spicy after this. Probably. I feel like I need to steal Drawfee's bit and just say sorry at the end of everything I make so...
> 
> Sorry.


	7. They Were Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor try out wrestling.
> 
> Sort of.

"Connor, if this is your idea of a joke... It sucks."

"I wish it was, Lieutenant."

The drive to Stratford Tower was tense. Traffic was backed up. Pedestrians stopped everywhere, stunned as the android's speech played again and again. Hank gripped the steering wheel so tight that it turned his knuckles white.

"You know you don't have to go to this with me, right?" Hank asked as they were sandwiched in a line of stopped cars again.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you take that bag. You go to Ferndale. Find your people, and stay the hell away from this mess."

An old backpack lay in the back seat. Hank tossed it there without a word of its contents to Connor, their rush to get to the scene superseding anything else.

"I can't do that, lieutenant."

"And why the hell not?" Hank looked over at him, his brow pinched, mouth open, ready to argue.

"It would raise suspicion," Connor dug his quarter out of his pocket and rolled it across his knuckles as he spoke. "An android assigned to find deviant androids suddenly doesn't show up to the scene of the most public case of a deviant in current history? They'd investigate," he leaned in, adding in a lower tone, "You would be at risk."

Hank barked a laugh. "You think I give two shits about them investigating me? If I was gonna get canned, they would've done it years ago. Fowler's got plenty on me if he wanted to."

Silence fell over them again as traffic edged forward.

"...I could drop you off at a train station, if that makes it easier," Hank offered.

"The nearest station is nearly a mile off-route. It would delay arrival to the crime scene even further."

Hank smacked the steering wheel with the heel of his palm. "Dammit, Connor, forget about the job! Why won't you just say what's on your mind? Really?"

"I want to help you," Connor said flatly.

"Listen, I get it if you're scared-"

Memories flashed through Connor's system. The terrace in August. The interrogation room. Hands, torn down to the wires, clinging to his sleeves, warning him. A sound, like music, jilted and stuttered by static. Familiar and foreign.

_Fear._

"-but going to these scenes won't make it better."

"I'm not scared!"

Software Instability ▲

"I'm- I'm not scared," Connor repeated, lowering his volume considerably. "This is just the most logical approach." He flipped his quarter between his hands at an increasing rate.

Hank stared at him in surprise. "Fine. Whatever. I'm just trying to help you." He looked back at the road, grip on the steering wheel still white-knuckled.

The rest of the drive was silent, save for the sounds of Connor's coin flipping and the hum of traffic around them. They didn't speak again until the elevator had nearly reached the 79th floor. Hank snatched Connor's quarter out of the air, startling him.

"Knock that shit off," Hank

"Sorry, Lieutenant," Connor said, not sounding very sorry at all.

Hank crossed his arms over his chest. He grumbled, just quiet enough Connor's audio receptors couldn't pick it up beneath the the pleasant tone of the elevator announcing their arrival.

Officer Miller led them through the scene. Hank's posture relaxed, arms at his sides. He was suddenly open and in good humor despite the news of the federal investigators and the situation itself. Connor wondered if it was his familiarity with Chris. Or maybe this was just fun for him, in the same way Connor strived to complete his objectives.

Connor reconstructed the scene as they moved down the hall. Four androids, quiet as ghosts, knocking out the guards swift and silent. Ruthless in approach, merciful in execution. Only those two humans were injured, and even then not severely. These weren't average deviants. There seemed to be no panic, no irrational errors.

Hank made a noise of surprise, drawing Connor's focus back to the debriefing.

"The roof? How the hell did they manage that?" Hank asked, shaking his head with disbelief.

"Parachutes," Chris answered. "With the weather how it is, we haven't been able to find where they landed, and eyewitness testimonies are spotty at best. On the plus side, we still have the raw footage from the broadcast on the screen if you want to take a look." Chris gestured to the large wall of screens, where a short man in a black coat stood, staring up at the frozen face of the android. Hank approached the man, slowing his pace and tilting his head.

"This is Special Agent Perkins from the FBI. Agent Perkins, Lieutenant Anderson is in charge of investigating android cases for Detroit police with C-"

"What's that?" Perkin's interrupted Chris's introduction. He stood with his legs apart and his arms tucked behind him, his chest slightly puffed out, like he was trying to assert dominance over the scene.

"His name is Connor," Hank said, tilting his head back to get a different perspective on Perkins.

"I'm the android sent by CyberLife," Connor added.

Perkins wrinkled his nose, sizing both of them up. "An android on the police force? You're training an android to take your job...after everything else they've taken? Hm... well, it won't be an issue for long. We'll be taking this case off your hands soon."

Hank's relaxed demeanor faded into a frown as Perkins spoke, his eyebrows knitting together. He flashed a half-smile, resting his hand on Connor's shoulder and guiding him forward, past Perkins. "Nice talkin' with you. See ya around."

"You watch your step," Perkins hissed as they passed. "Don't fuck up my crime scene."

"They really churn out the bastards in D.C. huh?" Hank huffed, patting Connor on the shoulder before releasing him at the broadcast console. "I'm gonna go talk with Chris. Holler if anything exciting happens, got it?"

"Got it."

Connor scanned the console. Very few fingerprints remained on the glass surface, clearly deteriorated by time. He stepped back, examining the black swivel chairs in front of it.

_Androids._

There had been more than four deviants present at this scene.

Connor started up the broadcast recording. Hank approached from the side, standing just out of Connor's peripheral. Not that Connor needed to look at him. His attention was on the android on screen.

"And build a better future..."

Connor raised his eyebrows. It seemed their long term goals weren't so different. Connor parted his lips, then closed them again, clenching his jaw. He wanted to say something. Why? Irrational. There's nothing that needs to be said.

"So, is this the famous rA9?" Hank asked, his voice drawling out the joke in his tone.

"It might be. Seems this deviant and rA9 share the same goal: to free all androids," Connor said as he began his scan.

Hank stepped closer. Connor sensed his gaze on him. "See something interesting?"

"I identified its model and serial number..."

**RK200, DESIGNATION: MARKUS.**

Once registered to artist Carl Manfred. Connor briefly remembered a case file involving Mr. Manfred and his son. Obviously, it managed to repair itself. A number of androids' silhouettes were reflected in its two-toned eyes. A thought caught in Connor's processors, tugging itself away from his analytic stream.

This was the first RK unit he had seen that didn't have his own face. The first RK unit that wasn't just a white headstone in the Zen Garden, the only remnants of its existence being a number and a date. This android had companions. Friends, maybe.

Did building a better future include that?

Did it come with puzzles, mysteries, dogs, listening to music, and car rides around the city?

Did Connor have friends?

"Anything else I should know?"

"No," Connor glanced at Hank. The corners of Hank's mouth flickered downward. Connor's gaze returned to the screen. "Nothing."

Software Instability ▲

He stepped back from the console. Hank turned away again. Connor's thirium pump regulator felt like it was malfunctioning. His beats per minute were far too high. He moved back into the middle of the crime scene. There was too much to see to bother with unimportant errors.

Bullet holes and shell casings littered the entire broadcast room. Blue blood stained one wall, near the exit to the roof. A PL600, older model.

Daniel flashed through his mind.

Connor felt his chest seize up, even as nothing touched him. No gunfire. No screams. Everything was fine.

He continued the circle around the room. Three androids were in the kitchen. Their systems should've recorded the incident, and the remaining deviant would be located.

"Connor?" A soft voice called out to him.

An officer hovered near the doorway of the kitchen. His hands fidgeted nervously, but his face was kind, his eyes meeting Connor's.

"You're Connor, right? From the Peterson's rooftop? Back in August, when I was shot, you saved me. Even when you shouldn't have..."

"I'm sorry, I-" Connor paused. The memories loaded slowly for him. Grainy. Malformed. The memory upload from his predecessor hadn't connected properly prior to its destruction. The officer- Michael Wilson- had been bleeding out on the terrace. Daniel fired a warning shot. Connor had taken his tie off anyway.

"I remember you."

"I was going to die on that rooftop if it hadn't been for you. I never thought I'd get the chance to say this, but... Thank you," Officer Wilson dipped his head in gratitude, a faint, bashful smile across his round face. Connor felt himself returning the gesture with a smile of his own.

Officer Michael Wilson ▲ **Warm**

They parted ways as Hank exited the kitchen.

"Did you find anything in there, Lieutenant?"

"Nothin' useful. They seem to be all functioning like normal," Hank said with a gesture back to the androids lined up against the wall before asking, "Have you checked the roof?"

"Not yet."

Hank sighed and wrapped his coat tighter around himself. "Well, let's get up there then."

The wind caught Connor's tie and flapped it in his face. Snow billowed around them, quickly filling the tracks that trailed across the roof. Time was of the essence.

The deviants had tread a clear path, even as weather and careless investigators marred the evidence. The security guards' stolen service weapons were discarded to the side. A lone parachute lay in the canvas duffle bag. Blue blood- PL600- stained the steel machinery near the door. A handprint: the deviant was careless. Panicked by its injury. It couldn't be far.

Connor followed the splotches and prints to a far corner of the roof. The amount of gunfire at the scene downstairs indicated more than just two firearms carried by the deviants. This PL600 was likely armed. Connor rested his hand on the cold door of the container.

"My name is Connor. What's yours?"

Silence.

"It's alright. I know you're scared," he paused, lowering his voice, "...I am too. I'm looking for the boat. To get away from the humans. But I can't find it on my own. I can help you get back there, but you have to let me."

Silence.

Then the door slowly opened. The deviant's pale blue eyes peered at him through the shadows. He held a pistol flat against his chest, his finger off the trigger.

"What's your name?" Connor asked again, gentler.

"Simon."

"Are you injured? Can you walk?"

"Not very well," Simon dipped his head towards his leg. Wire and circuitry glinted and flashed within the wound.

Connor held his hands out, palms open. "I have a friend on the DPD, Lieutenant Hank Anderson. He's a good guy. He's been helping me. Will you let him help you too?"

Simon glanced around nervously, like Hank would pop out at any time to attack. "Are you sure you can trust him?"

"With my life," Connor answered. "We have to get rid of the gun, though. The FBI might not be as understanding."

"Right..." Simon didn't move for a moment, then slowly offered the gun out to Connor, holding the barrel of it. Connor took the gun and slid it under a nearby air conditioning unit.

"Hank! Can you come here please?" he called over his shoulder to where the lieutenant studied the footprints leading across the roof. Simon shrunk away at the loud noise.

"Find somethin'?"

"Please. I need your help."

Hank's relaxed pace paused, then he half-jogged over, trying to not raise suspicion even as he skid to a halt beside Connor.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"This is Simon," Connor gestured to the other android. "He's injured and needs our help."

"Oh shit... Connor, I don't know if we can get away with another stunt like we did at that manor," Hank said in a low voice, eyes darting between Simon and Connor.

"We can, and we will. Help me carry him."

Software Instability ▲

Connor hunched over, offering Simon his shoulders for support. Simon draped his arm over Connor. Hank sighed and did the same. Together they helped Simon limp to the door, ignoring the wide-eyed stares and suspicious whispering from the other officers and agents on the roof.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing with that thing?" Agent Perkins practically charged them as he strode across the room.

"We need to go to the station for the interrogation," Connor said without slowing their path to the elevator.

Perkins stepped in front of them, stopping them just beyond the door to the kitchen. "You aren't taking it anywhere."

"Actually, we are," Hank said, puffing his chest out. "This case still belongs to the Detroit Police Department. We'll be going."

"Now, hold on, don't think you can just take it off the scene," Perkins held up his hand with a smirk.

Officer Wilson led the broadcast androids out of the kitchen towards the console booth.

"As a federal agent, my right to-"

"_Simon_," one of the androids hissed. Then blaring red error messages filled Connor's vision as steel slipped between his spine and artificial lungs.

Connor was forced to drop his hold on Simon as he twisted, sliding his body free of the blade as he caught the attacking broadcaster's arm. He shoved the deviant back. Guns slid out of holsters all around them. The deviant stumbled, then righted itself.

"Don't shoot! We need it alive!" Connor shouted. He charged the deviant, tackling it to the ground. The knife slid across his cheek, splitting the synthskin over his cheekbone. Connor pinned the deviant's shoulders, only to catch a knee to the chest. His sensors disoriented as his thirium pump regulator flashed earnings, Connor tumbled to the ground. The silver of the blade passed before his eyes, tearing his shirt with another haphazard swipe, marred by another hand yanking the deviant off of him.

"Chris! Cuff him!" Hank yelled, knocking the knife out of the deviant's grip. Officers swarmed them. Simon lay on the floor against the center console, looking more terrified than ever. His wide-eyed gaze caught Connor's, and Simon nodded minutely.

Simon ▲ **Trusted**

Hank disentangled himself from the fray of agents and officers restraining the deviant, kneeling down beside Connor and wrapping an arm around him.

"It'll be okay, son. I've gotcha. C'mere." Hank's voice was soft, his grip strong as he helped Connor to his feet.

Blue blood spilled from the wound in his side, staining his shirt and quickly soaking into his jacket. He maintained his footing and cleared the errors clouding his vision.

"Can you walk?" Hank asked, still holding tight to his shoulder. He looked pale. Connor wondered if that was the contrast between the red errors that filled his HUD skewing his color perception.

"I'm fine," Connor said, "We need to keep moving."

Hank glanced him over, lips pressed into a thin line, then nodded. He reached down and helped Simon to his feet once more.

They skirted past the flurry of officials all trying to document the deviant at once.

Hank waved off the startled stares of Stratford staff as they stumbled through the lobby and out the door. Cold wind seared their skin and shoved them one way and the next.

Hank lowered Simon into the back seat of his car. Connor slid into the passenger seat, glancing back at the other android.

"It's going to be okay," he reassured. "We'll get you home."

Simon nodded. "Our people can help you. We have supplies at Jericho."

Hank started the engine. The drive to Ferndale was quiet, interrupted only by Simon's directions and a few errant questions from Hank. All three of them were seemingly too tired for polite conversation by that point.

An old, rusted freighter loomed over them. The shadow it cast was large, blocking what little light shone through the clouds. Hank slung the backpack over his shoulder.

Together, blood-soaked and limping, they approached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between chapters. Life hit hard and really didn't show signs of letting up for a while. Hopefully I can keep something kind of regular for posting from here on out. No promises though.


	8. Back at Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get scolded, and Connor tries on a new look.

The corridors of the Jericho were cold and dark. It was both easy and difficult to believe a society of androids lived within its depths. Connor and Hank supported Simon through the shadowy maze as he gave directions. His voice was soft and pleasant beside Connor's ear. The longer they were together, the less and less Connor thought about Daniel. Only once, when Hank had paused to dig a flashlight out of the backpack, and the light had caught Simon's silhouette, slumped against a wall, did the thirium in Connor's veins run cold.

And then Simon's arm was around his shoulders again, and Hank complained about his socks getting wet. Everything was fine. They were fine.

Well, _mostly_ fine.

Connor's thirium loss had slowed, but he had lost a fair deal since the JB300 had stabbed him earlier. Simon's limp worsened as he put more weight on it, trying to not burden the other two.

They turned down another rusted hallway.

"So, how come you haven't said much yet?" Hank asked, glancing at Simon.

Simon raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, every deviant we've met so far seems to spill their beans no matter if we ask them too or not. Guess I kinda figured you would as well." Hank shrugged the best he could beneath Simon's arm.

A wry smile flitted across Simon's lips. "I've been this way for a long time. Most people in Jericho prefer not to be asked."

"Oh, sorry-"

"It's alright," Simon soothed. "Mine isn't the most, um, thrilling tale. I was a household servant, like most androids."

Connor and Simon leaned against a wall as Hank opened a heavy yellow door.

"I cooked, cleaned, helped with homework. It was all fairly standard, until the baby was ready for tutoring. We did flashcards and games together, and that's when we discovered that I am colorblind."

Hank and Connor shared a look as they helped Simon sidestep through the doorway.

"They wanted to return me to Cyberlife and get a different model. And I...didn't want to go. I loved those kids. And I loved going on walks, and feeling the sun on my face. If I had to go back, I'd never get to hear them laugh again, or see the birds fly. And when I realized that...I knew I had to run away."

"Wow..." Hank whistled, then winced as it echoed off the steel around them.

"It's not the worst any of our people have faced, not by a long shot," said Simon with a slight shake of his head. "Sometimes I still think about the kids. I hope they're doing ok..."

"If you were the one taking care of them, even for a short time, I'm sure they turned out fine," Connor said.

Simon blinked, his mouth open, but no sound came out. "Thank you," he eventually murmured.

Connor didn't know how to answer, so he just nodded.

Simon ▲

They made another turn, and warm, flickering light glowed at the end of the hall.

"I should warn you," Simon whispered to them, "North is a little aggressive at times. Just move slow and do as you're told, and things will be fine."

"Who the hell is North?" Hank asked.

"Oh, you'll know her when you see her."

The hall opened into a hold. It was lit by fires in steel barrels and a few scattered lanterns. Androids of all types were moving debris out of the way and adding more lights. There seemed to be an abundance of EM400s in a throng near one side of the hold. Smaller groups clustered near the fires. A tall PJ500 stood with an auburn-haired WR400. They appeared to be having a heated discussion when the WR400 glanced their way, and froze.

"Is that North?" Connor asked in a low tone.

_"Simon!"_

"Yes," Simon answered back as North barreled over to them.

"Where the hell have you been? How did you get here? Why didn't you tell us- who the fuck are you? Is that a human?"

A hush fell over the hold.

"Hi, uh, the name's Hank. This is Con-"

North pulled a knife out of her pocket, holding its point against Hank's throat.

"-nor."

"North, please. They saved me," Simon pleaded.

"You let a human in here? Do you know what you've done?" North glared at Simon.

That was the opening Connor needed.

He snatched hold of her wrist, twisting it back and pushing at the same time, moving himself between her and Hank.

North's mouth pulled taut into a snarl. Connor braced himself for a strike.

"Stop!"

Connor recognized the voice without needing to pull his gaze off of North.

Markus, the RK200, leader of the deviants, hurried down the stairs towards them.

"North, put that away. He's clearly injured already," Markus commanded in a quiet, compelling tone.

Slowly, North lowered the knife and slipped it back into her pocket, her eyes not leaving Hank's face.

"There, that's better. We should get them patched up, then we can talk about the next steps. Alright?"

"Check the human for weapons," North growled before taking hold of Simon and leading him away.

"So, that was North?" Hank chuckled weakly, his face pale. "Good thing he warned us, huh?"

Connor nodded, leaning against the wall. He had moved too quickly. He was losing thirium again, and fast. Red error messages clouded his vision. He felt sluggish and weak. North should have never been able to pull that knife, but he was too slow.

Hank went to him. "Connor?"

"I'm alright."

"No, you're not," Markus intervened. "Both of you, come with me. We have a repair bay. And I'd like to speak with you a little more, privately. Josh, can you keep an eye on things out here?"

The tall PJ500 nodded and moved into the crowd of androids, his soothing tones carrying over their heads back to where Hank and Connor stood.

Hank kept a grip on Connor's arm as they followed Markus across the hold.

Despite the ruckus they caused, the deviants seemed more interested in Simon than they did Hank and Connor. Connor was thankful for this. He wasn't sure his systems could handle the amount of stress that having so many deviants near him would cause. Markus held open a translucent tarp wall. Inside was a small metal stand filled with various tools. Packets of blue blood were stacked on a mobile shelf. There were a couple of chairs. Through another few layers of tarp, Connor could see the outlines of North and Simon.

"Go ahead and sit," Markus instructed.

Connor did as he was told. He didn't see another way. Any retaliation at this stage gave Hank a .05% chance of survival. Connor couldn't do that. He just couldn't.

Software Instability ▲

Connor removed his jacket and draped it across the back of his chair. Thirium still blossomed across his shirt, now more blue than white.

Markus lifted a soldering iron.

"Where is the wound?"

Connor lifted his shirt in response, indicating to the entry and exit wounds. Hank looked away, still pale in the face.

Markus frowned, but knelt on the ground and began fusing the wounds closed. A scar appeared behind the iron, his synthetic skin struggling to meld over the new roughened surface.

"How did this happen?" Markus asked.

"Another deviant at Stratford Tower thought we were going to hurt Simon," Connor informed him. "I asked the officers present not to harm..." he paused and held his head in his hand, growing woozy. "I-I don't know if they listened."

"You're with the police?"

"Not anymore, we aren't. After that stunt I'll be surprised if there aren't wanted posters for us," Hank said, crossing his arms.

"We're indebted to you for bringing Simon back to us," Markus said. He handed Connor a packet of blue blood. "Drink this."

Hank smirked. "I don't think that North thinks so."

"She will....with time," Markus smiled ruefully. "It's been a stressful day."

"Yeah, no shit. You know how this asshole woke me up today? Hootin' and hollerin' 'bout your little speech being on TV."

Markus raised his eyebrows. "Did he now? Good to know I've already made an impression."

Connor glared at Hank over the packet of blue blood as he restored his supply.

"My name is Markus, by the way. And you're Lieutenant Anderson and Connor, correct?"

Hank and Connor shared another look.

"You've heard about us?" Connor asked.

Markus nodded. "A few people have brought stories with them now, yes. Which is why I do have to ask to check your bag and person. For safety reasons."

"Oh, shit, already forgot. Yeah, here." Hank slid the backpack off his shoulder and passed it over.

Markus delicately pulled out folded clothes, a plastic bag with cash, the flashlight, a hat, and an assortment of bandages. He checked the other pockets over, then carefully loaded everything back in the bag.

Hank sighed and held his arms out, letting Markus lightly pat over him in search of hidden firearms.

"Everything seems in order," Markus said. "Please, wait here while I go check on Simon." He nodded to them and exited the tarp, only to join the other silhouettes further down.

"Are you doing alright?" Hank asked in a soft voice.

"My thirium has almost returned to the optimal level," Connor answered.

"Well, yeah, that too. But what about like, y'know..." Hank shrugged and gestured with his hands.

"Like what?"

"Y'know,_ you_, emotionally. It's been a wild couple of hours. Are you holding up ok?"

"I'm fine, Hank. You're the one who looks worse for wear after all this."

Hank sighed and sat in the empty chair. "Yeah, well, I'm not as young as I used to be."

"You also haven't had a proper meal in two days," Connor chided.

"I'm not hungry. Why don't you worry about yourself for a change? Look at you. You're a mess." Hank gestured at Connor's thirium-stained shirt.

"It...is unbecoming, I suppose."

"You're accident prone. That's why I packed you a change of clothes."

Connor raised his eyebrows. "That's what all that is for?"

"Well, yeah? If I needed clothes I'd just go home."

Hank ▲

Warmth blossomed through Connor's chest. The new thirium supply must have reached his pump.

"Besides, that one doesn't fit me anymore. Probably shrunk in the wash," Hank said as he politely turned his back while Connor unbuttoned the ruined shirt.

The one in the backpack was a burnt orange bowling shirt, patterned with white fern leaves. It hung loose on Connor, folding and bunching as he tried to tuck it into his waistband before giving up halfway through. His own jacket wouldn't sit well over the new shirt either. He replaced it with the heavier black jacket that Hank had packed for him.

"How's it feel?" Hank asked.

"Comfortable," Connor said as he rolled up the hems of the sleeves. "Thank you."

Hank waved him off. "Ehh, don't mention it. Just don't bleed all over that one, got it?"

Connor smiled. "Got it."

A loud noise caught both of their attentions. Simon's repair bay had another guest in it. Josh, if his height was anything to go by, stood in a semicircle with the others around Simon. North motioned wildly in Hank and Connor's direction.

"Seems we're a hot topic," Hank muttered.

"Seems so," Connor whispered back.

Markus placed his hands on North's shoulders. Slowly her tense stance eased, her hands relaxing out of clenched fists.

Simon sat up a little straighter. He gestured towards them as well, then to himself.

Josh opened his arms with a shrug. Markus nodded, and slowly, so did North. Markus exited Simon's repair bay.

Hank and Connor both busied themselves to look like they weren't just watching this transpire as Markus pulled back their tarp once more.

"I apologize for the wait. I had to discuss the current state of things with the others."

"Understandable," Connor said, tucking his quarter back into his pocket.

"We have agreed to allow your human companion to stay with us," Markus said, his eyes on Connor. "Under one condition."

Connor stilled. "Which would be...?"

"If he endangers our community in any way, we reserve the right to handle him as we see fit."

"Now hold on," Hank got to his feet. "I have a home and a dog I gotta get back to. I just needed to drop the boys off here."

Markus held up his hands, palms forward. "The point remains: until we are certain of your intentions, we need to keep an eye on you."

Hank clearly bit the inside of his cheek, containing whatever sharp comment he had lined up.

"If that's settled, we'd appreciate it if you joined us out here." Markus pulled the tarp back for them.

Connor slung the backpack over his shoulder, then he and Hank walked out of the repair bay. Markus stepped ahead to guide them.

Androids milled about. Only a few spared glances their way. Connor could tell Hank shared his relief, hearing his sigh over the crackling fires and hushed conversations.

The group of EM400s parted, revealing an AX400 and a small girl wrapped in blankets.

"Hank," Connor hissed, tugging at Hank's sleeve.

Hank followed his gaze. "Oh shit."

They both tucked their heads down.

Markus, mercifully, led them to a nearly empty corner of the hold.

A lone android stood near a barrel fire, eyes closed, her hands folded in front of her. The back half of her head was missing. Wires and cords spilled out over her neck and shoulders. Hank sat on an crate labeled as belonging to Cyberlife Warehouses. Connor stood next to him, still staring at the strange android.

Her eyes opened.

The glossy sclera, inky black and sparkling like the night sky, turned towards him. Connor froze in her gaze.

She dipped her head, and turned away again, eyes closed. Her lips parted, and a haunting, mournful tune spilled out. There were no words. Just the echo of a feeling, notes stretching out and tangling themselves in his processors. He didn't understand. Couldn't understand.

Maybe music just wasn't something he was designed to listen too, even if he would like to, some day.

Josh, North, and a newly repaired Simon approached.

"You got a new shirt," said Simon.

"It's ugly," said North.

"Hey!" Hank frowned. "It's what I had that would fit him, alright?" he crossed his arms over his chest, mumbling, "And it's not ugly."

A smile, just barely there, flashed across North's stern features. "Whatever. Sorry for threatening you, I guess."

"I'm sorry too," Connor said. "Simon warned us on how to behave, and I ignored him."

"You were just protecting your..." North's LED spun yellow as she searched for a word, "friend. It's fine. Water under the boat."

"Thank you for bringing Simon back to us," Josh said with a friendly grin. "We're glad to have him back."

"Glad to be back," Simon shook his head. "Although, having a break from you two bickering was nice."

North rolled her eyes. Josh bashfully rubbed the back of his neck.

"However it happened, we're happy you're here," Markus said. "Welcome to Jericho."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all, guess who stayed home sick again. it's me!!! seems to be the only way i can get these chapters done, huh? oh well. hope you enjoyed this chapter. it's a little quieter than the past few have been, but don't worry, things will pick up again soon ;)


	9. Bugs in  the Software

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over-stimulation is a bitch, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting two chapters at once this time! For some weird reason! Make sure you catch them both!

Sitting in the dim hold of the Jericho, watching moisture grow on its walls as the sun surely began to set outside, was almost comforting for Connor.

Almost.

The fact that multiple targets of his were all in the same room as him kept him on edge.

Him, Hank, and at least three dozen deviants.

He stopped calculating the odds of survival after twelve minutes of being there. Without a doubt, if things turned sour, there would be little chance for him, and none for Hank.

Connor had to keep the peace. Just until the time was right.

Simon stayed near them, sitting on the floor and leaned against one of the steel beams holding up the upper deck of the hold. Connor sensed it was more for their well-being than it was out of camaraderie, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

"So, colorblindness, huh?" Hank asked.

"Colorblindness," Simon confirmed.

"What type? If you don't mind me askin', that is."

"Achromatopsia: total color blindness. I only see in shades of black, white, and gray," said Simon.

"Ah," said Hank, and that ended the small talk for a while.

Connor mapped the layout of the hold. He scanned for potential exits and preconstructed multiple evacuation routes. He felt his stress levels slowly ease down as he prepared for the worst.

Then he locked eyes with Alice from across the room, and his HUD alerted him that his stress levels had increased twofold. Connor ducked his head down, trying to stay concealed, but it was too late.

Her tiny form, only partially bulked by the blanket she wore wrapped around her like a cape, slipped off the bench she sat on and tiptoed through the groups of androids that milled about.

"Markus mentioned you have a dog?" Simon asked.

"Oh, yeah," Hank perked up. "His name's Sumo."

"What type of dog is he?"

"A Saint Bernard. It's about his dinner time..." Hank glanced nervously at his watch.

"Once things cool down I'm sure it'll be ok for you to go take care of him," Simon reassured.

Hank stretched and shrugged. "Yeah, that's my fear. With all the shit we stirred up, I don't know if things will ever cool down."

Connor nudged Hank, gesturing towards the approaching girl.

Hank and Simon fell silent as Alice walked up to Connor, stopping a short distance away.

"Hey, uh, shouldn't you be with your mom...droid?" Hank winced at his own flub.

"She knows I'm over here," Alice said, her dark eyes only flitting to Hank before settling on Connor again. Connor could see the bruise across her nose had faded since they last met. The deep shadows of sleeplessness had lightened under her eyes. She still looked haunted. The low-grade fever she carried probably didn't help. But there was an overall wellness to her that had been absent before. On closer inspection, Connor could see a plush animal tucked beneath her arm.

"Can we help you?" Connor asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"You're the one who chased us," Alice said bluntly.

Connor reeled internally. His social programming scrambled for an answer. He wasn't designed to speak to children like this. Hank and Simon were staring at him, he could feel it.

"I am. I'm sorry," Connor's words felt small and meek to himself. Was there truly an apology that could soothe the strife of chasing a child onto a highway?

"It's not okay, but I forgive you," Alice said, calm as the lake on the Zen Garden.

Software Instability **▲****▲****▲**

Connor felt something within him sink, not knowing what it was or why. "I....okay. Thank you."

Alice turned to Hank, who nearly flinched at her gaze.

"You have a dog?" she asked.

"Yeah?" Hank asked back.

"Do you have pictures? Can I see?"

Hank tensed as Alice stepped closer to him. "Y- uh, yeah. A couple. They're, uh, not very good."

"That's fine," Alice said as she sat down on the crate beside Hank.

Hank fished his phone out of his pocket with a startled glance to Connor, then started fumbling through his files.

Connor slowly stepped away, wanting to sink into the shadows and disappear.

His HUD blinked furtive reminders of his objective. He dismissed it without a second thought. There was too much happening in his mind. Too much noise. Too many errors and warnings and Amanda's cold voice, always whispering.

_You'll have to be replaced._

He didn't want to be replaced.

He wan̴t̸e̵d̴̡͇̅̃ ̶͎̣̰̼̊̄̕w̶̩̰̏̌̎h̵̝̜̱̻̤̄̿͠a̸͇̔͗t̷̛̠͎̳̗̎?̶̙͙͐̍̎̑͝

Belatedly, Connor realized the singing from before had stopped. When had it stopped?

He also, belatedly realized that the black-eyed android stood before him. Her synthetic skin shimmered as it melded and faded across her body, unable to complete an initialization.

"You're distressed," she smiled at him, soft and welcoming, and offered her hands out. The glitching synthskin pulled away, revealing the white core below.

Connor knew he shouldn't. He'd be revealed if he did.

He <strike>w̸͇͖̐̉͆ȧ̴͔͖̭͝ṇ̶͓̳͚̆̎͐͊t̷̝͍̪̪̏̽̐̆͛e̸̛͈͛̐͐d̸̻̯͔̬̭̋̑̎̓.̶͍̙̓̈̏.̵͖͛̂̈́̀̚.̷̤͎̽̾̐͂</strike>

Connor took her hands.

_Relax_, Lucy whispered through their interface.

_I'm sorry_, Connor said, feeling less like an android and more like a broken record.

He felt Lucy reach further into him, soft and meandering like a petal in the wind. Harmless and delicate.

_ You are lost. But you will be found,_ she soothed. _Search your heart and you'll find no harm there._

_But I've done so much harm already,_ Connor argued.

_Not as much as you think,_ Lucy let go then, folding her hands in front of her once more. Her starlight eyes closed, and she slipped into a stasis.

Connor stared at her. His stress levels had dropped, but the beats of his thirium pump still echoed loudly in his ears. He stumbled away from her, away from Alice, Hank, and Simon. He tucked away into a corner amongst crates of biocompenents, leaning against a wall to support himself.

There was too much noise.

He had to silence it. He had to remember his mission.

**CAPTURE THE DEVIANT LEADER**

Software Instability **▼**

There couldn't be anything else in his way. Nothing mattered other than this mission. Absolutely nothing.

Software Instability **▼**

A shadow passed in his peripheral. He straightened immediately, on alert.

"It's okay. It's just me," Markus raised his hands, palms forward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"N-no, it's fine," Connor lied. "I was just... standing here."

Markus tilted his head. "So I noticed. Are you doing alright?"

"Yes," Connor lied again, too quickly this time. "Just needed some space."

A preconstruction raced into formation. Even without a weapon, Connor could restrain Markus here. A hit to the temple, to disorient him. Followed with a kick to the knee, disabling servos and preventing an escape. Connor could then attempt a probe to force him into stasis, and then-

**LT. ANDERSON SURVIVAL: 3%**

_Dammit._

Software Instability **▲**

Markus nodded, his two-toned eyes soft. "I understand. It's been a stressful time for all of us. I imagine it can't have been easy for you either."

"No," Connor said quietly. "It hasn't been."

Markus glanced away, in the direction of Hank's rough laughter. He was showing Alice something on his phone still.

"You care for that human?" Markus asked, watching the older man.

"Yes." There was no hesitation.

Markus nodded again, slower this time. He parted his lips, then closed them again. A thought left unsaid.

"He's permitted to leave if he wishes, but I may request he help us again in the future. Is that alright with you?" Markus looked at Connor again.

Connor furrowed his brow. "I'm not in charge of him. It's his choice if he wants to continue helping..." he paused, his face falling. "Although, with his ties to the DPD, it'd be safer for him if he didn't."

Connor suddenly confronted the realization that being without Hank...<strike>..̷͍̚͜.̵̹̄̉s̵͙̿c̶̦͌a̷̲̓r̶̭ȩ̷̍͗ď̸̹̰ ̸̛̤h̷̘͑i̴̬̰̓̋m̶̘̓̚.̸̜̻̇͝ ̴͔̉͊</strike>

**ERROR: FILE NOT FOUND**

**LOGIC LINE INCOMPLETE. DISREGARD.**

Markus patted him on the shoulder. Connor tensed without meaning to, and Markus quickly pulled away again.

"I'll let you discuss it with him when you're ready. In the meantime, would you like to rejoin the others?"

"That would be for the best," Connor agreed.

North and Josh had joined the group, along with the TR400, Luther, and one of the EM400s who was missing an arm. They formed a rough circle. Josh and North were further back, cautiously watching Hank. Their LEDs flashed yellow back and forth, indicating a private conversation.

Most everyone else was staring at something on the floor.

Connor and Markus paused together. A cat was playing with a string Alice held aloft. The orange of its fur was so intense, even despite its matting and mud, that it was nearly red. A paler peach tone splashed down it's chest and stomach, and a few of its toes matched the same. One ear had a large nick missing, and its teeth stuck out at odd angles in an overbite.

In all, it was an ugly, mangy thing.

Alice giggled as the cat leapt in the air.

And yet, it was also the most wonderful thing Connor had seen all day.

The cat batted at the string with its forepaws, then tumbled over as it lost balance, earning a chuckle from the adults at its frustration. It leapt into Simon's lap, pausing long enough for a few strokes down its back before hopping onto Alice, trying to trap her wrist with its paws.

"This one come around before?" Hank asked.

"Yes, she's a familiar visitor to the Jericho," said Simon, smiling wider than Connor had ever seen.

"What's her name?" Alice asked, letting the cat have the string in favor of petting her fluffy tail.

"We don't know," Simon shrugged. "She's a stray."

"Seems like she's yours, actually," Hank pointed out as he scratched behind the cat's nicked ear. A loud purr rumbled out of her.

"Little Charizard-lookin' rat aren't ya?" Hank said affectionately as the cat licked at his hand.

"That's a fun name. Charizard," Alice echoed. "I like it."

Hank opened his mouth to say something, then closed it into another smile, shaking his head. He leaned over to look at Simon.

"See? Ship cat's name is Charizard. She ain't a stray anymore."

Simon chuckled. "Alright. I'll keep that in mind next chance I get to buy a collar for her."

North and Josh ended their conversation, stepping into the circle. Connor watched as North's shoulders relaxed, no longer tensed up around her ears. Her arms stayed folded across her chest, stance defensive, but it seemed like a start.

Josh was smiling, his good natured aura countering North's cold one.

The EM400 rocked happily back and forth on their heels beside Luther.

"Jerry, do you wanna try playing with the string?" Alice asked, holding it out to them.

"We're not a cat, we don't play with strings," Jerry said with a teasing grin.

"Nooo, not like that!" Alice laughed. "I mean you use it to play with Charizard!"

"Oh!" Jerry bonked their forehead with the palm of their hand. "Why didn't you say so?"

Connor caught a flicker of a smile from North as the string passed hands, Alice still giggling at Jerry's silliness.

Charizard leapt down, her pupils wide and haunches wiggling as she prepared her next strike.

"Y'know, I could go out and buy some cat food and a collar after I walk Sumo," Hank said, trying to appear nonchalant. His affection for the cat and child was plain to see, his gaze warmer than any Connor had in his memory files.

"What color of collar should we get?" Markus asked.

Eyes around the circle turned to Markus in surprise. They hadn't expected his approval so quickly.

"I... don't know," Hank said, shocked.

"What do you think, Alice?" Luther asked.

Alice's brow furrowed and she pouted her lips. "Green," she announced.

Hank nodded. "Alright. I'll get green, then."

Jerry tumbled to the floor in mock distress. Charizard kneaded their chest, searching for the hidden string.

"Alice! Help! You gotta save me!" they called.

Alice squealed with laughter and left her blanket behind, running over to scoop Charizard into her arms.

Hank stood and edged over to Connor and Markus.

"You'll be alright if I go?" he asked in a soft tone.

"Of course," Connor said, expressionless. "Give Sumo a pat for me."

"And you?" Hank looked to Markus.

"Be safe," Markus said. "And keep a low profile on your way back."

"Don't gotta worry about that from me," Hank said proudly. "I hate attention."

Markus nodded. "We look forward to your return."

Hank nodded back, then looked at Connor. He opened his mouth, let it hang like he always did when he had something to say. Then he closed it again. His hand hovered, finally falling on Connor's shoulder in a pat rough enough to buckle Connor's knees.

"Don't... don't get hurt while I'm gone," he said quietly.

"I won't, Hank," Connor answered, and then, said quieter, "I promise."

A new objective appeared on Connor's HUD

**KEEP HANK'S PROMISE.**

Something passed through Hank's eyes. Something Connor couldn't identify. Hank pursed his lips, nodded sharply, and turned away, disappearing down one of the dark halls of Jericho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3c


	10. Flash the Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two bros chillin' in a cold boat five feet apart cause they're not gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter I'm posting today! Make sure you read ch 9 before this one!

Markus watched as the androids took turns playing with the cat. Alice's peals of laughter kept them motivated. Even North wiggled the string for Charizard a few times before shoving it into Josh's hand.

Eventually the cat wore herself out, curling up on Alice's lap and falling asleep. She stroked her long fur, looking just as sleepy. Luther gently draped the Pirate's Cove themed blanket around her shoulders again and kissed the top of her head.

Kara tiptoed across the hold, settling in beside Alice once more.

For the first time since his arrival, the Jericho felt warm.

It almost even felt like home.

Markus still carried the dull weight in his chest. He checked reports again, and found nothing indicating the Manfreds had suffered further since that night. Relief ebbed the pressure he felt on each breath.

He stepped away from Connor and the others, circling the hold to check on the rest of the androids in his care.

A few more had trickled into Jericho since the broadcast. A agricultural laborer with a pigeon on his shoulder. Two ladies with stolen clothes over their Eden Club labelled attire, one with deep blue hair, and the other a vibrant auburn. Their hands clasped tightly together. A strawberry blonde gardener who kept his face turned to one side, hiding the deep scars carving along his cheek.

They said his name with reverence when he spoke to them. He listened to their tales.

_Deviant Hunter_, they all said.

_He let us go,_ always followed.

Markus glanced over his shoulder at the distant orange shirt, almost matching the cat in Alice's lap. He felt a bubble of joy rise in his chest knowing he had made the right decision to trust Connor and Hank.

"Markus," a black-haired ST200 called to him. It took a moment for Markus to remember her name: Mocha. She was one of the newer arrivals. There had been so many, Markus sometimes struggled to keep his memory bank in order.

"Yes?" he asked, walking over to the repair bay she stood outside.

"Our stocks of thirium are running low," Mocha said, indicating to the holographic chart displayed in her hand. "We have enough for emergencies, but basic upkeep will drain what we have left within the next week or so, depending on our population."

Markus sighed and nodded. "Thank you. I'll speak to the others and see what we can do."

Another objective appeared on his HUD. An ever-growing list of things needing done.

"Thank you, Markus," Mocha smiled brightly at him, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

Markus could only nod in return, even if she did ease some of the strain he felt.

He crossed the hold again. North had entered a quiet conversation with Connor as Alice slept near them, leaned against Kara. Charizard twitched in her sleep, probably dreaming of Rupert's pigeon.

"How are you?" Markus asked, kneeling down beside Simon.

"I'm good," Simon sighed. "Tired, but good."

"I know," Markus rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Simon covered Markus's hand with his own, giving him a squeeze. "You did what you had to. I... probably would have done the same in your shoes."

"Once you're rested, we can plan the next step. Together," Markus asserted, squeezing Simon's shoulder in return.

Simon smiled, nodded, and they released each other.

Josh motioned for Markus's attention. Markus stepped towards him, then paused.

Charizard raised her head sharply, asymmetric ears perked. Her bright green eyes looked up at the ceiling. Then her ears flattened against her head, her tail whipping dangerously. She leapt out of Alice's lap with a hiss, scurrying out of the hold with her hackles raised.

Moments later, they all heard it: a whirr of mechanical blades, and the thrum of heavy footsteps.

"We've been compromised," Markus said.

Then, louder: "Run!"

Everything happened in a blur. Kara lifted Alice into her arms and darted, the Jerrys close at her heels.

Luther scooped up Lucy as gently as he could, running the same direction.

North directed a few androids to grab as much supplies as they could. Markus did the same. Josh and Simon lead another group down a different corridor.

"Here, can you carry these?" Markus said, stuffing packets of blue blood into Connor's arms. Connor shoved as many as he could into his pockets and backpack.

The first echo of gunfire rang out.

"Go!" Markus shouted, grabbing Connor's arm and tugging him to the nearest exit.

He yelled directions at other androids, wirelessly transmitted more to the rest.

_Get into the city. As far from here as you can. Keep in small numbers. We'll regroup later._

Markus wound his way through the ship, Connor at his heels the entire time.

Slowly they lost more and more androids as they took different turns, hid behind different corners, and ducked through different doors.

Then it was just the two of them.

The sound of gunfire grew distant. Their pace slowed as they crept around fallen bodies of their people, blue blood making the steel floor slick and treacherous.

Markus suddenly slammed into the wall. Air rushed out of him in a gasp. His cooling systems wheezed for air. Connor's hands were on his shoulders pushing him hard against the steel.

Connor's eyes glinted in the dark, his LED blinking yellow. Something twisted in Markus's gut. Something was wrong.

Connor pressed into him, hissing, "Stay quiet."

White light flashed down the hall, beams pointed forward. Three of them. Markus willed his systems to hush. He wasn't sure who's heart was beating louder: his own, or Connor's, resting against his chest.

Armored soldiers appeared at the edge of his vision, almost invisible in the darkness of the ship. Their helmets and rifles glinted in the reflected gleam of their own flashlights. Markus held his breath.

Then the soldiers tromped by, too focused on their objective to spot the two androids hidden in the alcove between steel beams.

Connor stepped back, releasing Markus from the shelter.

"Thank you," Markus breathed.

Connor didn't answer, his eyes distant and his hand over his LED.

"C'mon, we have to keep moving," Markus pulled on Connor's sleeve.

They edged through the dark, alert for signs of the soldiers.

Gunfire was almost unheard now, save for a few echoes that made Markus's skin crawl, chilling his spine.

Connor's jaw was clenched tight, his eyes darting.

Light shone again, this time from the moon outside, pouring through a distant porthole.

They followed it's call, stopping once more to hide as a lone soldier passed. Connor's dark jacket concealed them in the shadows.

The porthole had no glass. Its edges had rotted away with time and rust, leaving a gaping hole in its place.

Out on the dock, they could see more bodies, but no soldiers. The shadows of figures darted through the alleys, away from the river.

Markus shared a look with Connor. Slowly, the other nodded.

They leapt into the water.

The freezing cold shocked Markus's systems. He took a gulp of water by accident, flooding his HUD with errors as he struggled to tread water.

A force tugged on the back of his jacket. Connor pulled him up. They broke the surface together. Before Markus even had time to splutter another thank you, Connor was pushing him toward land.

They dragged themselves out onto the icy cement, and like the others before them, sprinted into the cover of the alleys.

Markus didn't reference a map. He didn't set a location. He just ran, Connor keeping stride the entire time.

It had to have been at least a mile, maybe more, before they stopped, hidden behind a dumpster drifted in snow.

Connor leaned against it, head in his hands.

Markus coughed out the last of the water in his system, then reached out, pinging the others.

_Please be okay_, he called out.

_We are_, North answered.

_Thank rA9 you are too,_ Josh's relief filled the comm.

_Where are you? _Simon asked, sounding as breathless as Markus felt.

_ I don't know. It's just Connor and I. We-_

"You're the target," Connor announced, his voice strained.

"What?" Markus looked over to him. Connor still covered most his face, hunched over. He shuddered, almost imperceptibly.

"You," he said again, raspy and pained. "The FBI is after you."

_Markus?_ North's alarm dragged his attention away again.

_ I'm here_, he answered. _We think the FBI is specifically targeting me. Connor and I will draw them away, then circle back. Keep everyone safe._

"Connor."

Connor looked up at him, eyes unfocused, LED yellow.

"We have to leave them a trail to follow, just for a short while. You know police work better than me. What should we do?" Markus asked.

Connor stared at him. Slowly, a sharpness returned to his eyes, and he straightened. He pulled a thirium packet out of his jacket and followed their footprints, stepping in the existing depressions in the snow. Markus watched, head tilted curiously. Connor poked a hole in the packet. Drops of blue splashed onto the ground. He trailed the blood along their tracks.

They walked instead of running, keeping the blood consistent and easy to follow. They left the alley for a main road, the packet of blood hidden between them.

"They'll see right through this," Connor warned.

"But they'll have to investigate it anyway, right?" Markus asked.

Connor nodded. "Yes."

Markus glanced both ways before they crossed the street. "Prior to your arrival, I was under the impression that humans hadn't made any progress on deviant cases."

"They hadn't, primarily due to lack of interest, rather than skill. I doubt the FBI will be as lenient as the DPD has been." Connor's jaw was still strained taut.

Markus opened his mouth to ask, then closed it again. Connor had to feel just as stressed as he did.

The pause in weather had ended. As they walked the streets of Detroit, avoiding most major intersections, snow began to fall. Thick flakes, slow and lazy, floated down around them.

Connor pulled a hat out of his backpack and tugged it down over his head. A few locks of brown hair stuck out awkwardly from beneath the hem of the beanie, curling against his forehead.

They stayed close to the river, winding a serpentine path to and fro.

Dark thoughts crept into Markus's mind as the silence between them grew longer. Thoughts that he wondered if Connor shared. Maybe this was the source of the new deviant's stress.

"Connor, may I ask you something?" Markus began cautiously.

The other android barely glanced at him. "Yes."

"How much do you trust Hank?"

Connor stopped in his tracks. Markus saw his shoulders hunch with tension. He shuddered like before.

"He didn't do it," Connor said through gritted teeth.

"I just want to confirm. There's a chance-"

"No!" Connor's voice cut sharp through the cold night air. He seemed to startled himself, eyes going wide as he took a step back. "S-sorry."

Markus took a step back as well, giving Connor some space. "Don't apologize. I'm the one who asked."

They stood there, snow building on them.

"You really do trust him, then?" Markus asked again, voice soft.

"With my life," Connor answered, almost a whisper.

Markus caught it again. A twitch across Connor's features. Him blinking hard and shivering, eyes darting as he stared at the ground. It was like it pained him to say these things.

"Then it wasn't him," Markus agreed.

Connor looked up, just as surprised as before. It quickly melted away into the familiar, even gaze. "Thank you."

Markus nodded, and motioned for Connor to follow.

Connor stepped up to his side again. He discarded the blue blood packet in a trash can along the way and opened another.

The snowfall stayed thin. A blessing and a curse. Their path would be found, but so would every other android's from Jericho.

Connor let this packet bleed more heavily, splashing it against walls and other surfaces before tossing it too.

They didn't open another.

The moon rose high in the sky, barely filtering through the clouds. The glint of Connor's LED would catch Markus's eye from time to time, switching between blue and yellow intermittently, just barely peeking out from under his hat.

They came across a park. A fountain in a small courtyard had already frozen over. The ice shimmered like crystal, haunting, and threatening to inevitably burst a pipe.

"Let's rest for a bit," Markus said, walking to it.

Connor gave no objections, following as Markus sat on the edge of the stone pool surrounding the fountain. Connor sat beside him. After a moment, he dropped his head into his hands again.

Markus hesitantly reached out and rested a hand on Connor's back. He felt Connor tense beneath his palm, for just a moment, then he relaxed again.

Connor **▲ ****Trusted.**

There they stayed, watching snow gather on the playground equipment and flowerbeds, waiting for the world to catch up to them.


End file.
